I Will Remember a Smile on 9/11
It’s been five years. Five years since that day I held my little baby close to me and wept angry bitter tears. I remember a tear falling on her soft baby hair and sliding down behind her ear. She looked up at me and smiled.
I had just returned home from grocery shopping when I heard the news about the first plane crashing into World Trade Center. I was too busy being Mommy to think much about it. I felt bad for the people inside, but I was busy. That was in New York, I had a whole list of things to do here. I could hear the details on the news that night.
Then the next plane hit. I turned on the TV and watched the coverage. I called my Mom and told her to watch as well. We were both in a state of disbelief. Unfortunatly, that didn’t last long.
I screamed No! when they mentioned the Pentagon. No! No! No! I looked out at the sky above my house and wondered if that last plane was the one. I could hear another plane and I was frightened. I called my husband.”Come home, I want you to be safe.” I demanded.
He said he’d be home later. He wasn’t going to leave work and let them win. I was very angry with him. How could he put his ego above his family? Why didn’t he know the real reason I had called? The news began to falsely report about bombs and explosions all over DC. I called my husband back and got his voice mail.”Please come home,” I sobbed. “I need you to make me feel safe.” He showed up 15 minutes later.
I remember hearing the low flying fighter jets screaming overhead. Fast and angry. Loud and frightening. It was one of the worst sounds I had ever heard. I closed my eyes and prayed that they wouldn’t shoot down a plane over my house. I imagined plane parts and innocent bodies falling from the sky.
Then, the plane crashed in Pennsylvania. Where in Pennsylvania? I have relatives in Pennsylvania. I suddenly realized that I wanted every person I had ever loved, or even known, to be in my house with me right then. That was the only way I could know they were safe.
I was horrified as I watched the news footage from the attack. I was equally horrified as I watched my baby build towers out of her blocks and knock them down. I had not let her see the news. She was just playing the same as she always had. I put the blocks away.
I lay in bed that night listening to the fighter jets overhead and cried. Then I got up and got my babies and snuggled them between my husband and myself. It was a long time before I stopped cringing when I heard a plane overhead. The sound of that first jet had left a permanent mark. Even now, at times, a low flying plane will take me back to that day.
So, today, I watch as the planes fly lazily by, high above my house. I watch my babies that are now “big girls” playing in the cul-de-sac. I sit here and think of that beautiful baby smile and try not to hate the people that did those things. I try real hard not to hate them.
