To most who really know me, nothing affects me for the most part. I put on a strong front even when I am aching inside. 10 years ago when the first plane struck I was stunned and struck to the very core. It was the hardest thing for me to take my two kids to school and drop them off as if it were any other day. Afterwards, I cried while holding my youngest in my arms. Hubby wasn't home. He was travelling for work and sat up in Seattle in a hotel near the Space Needle. He called early...he was coming home. When the second plane hit my heart nearly stopped. I watched the drama unfold and things falling from the tower, only later to find out they were people jumping to avoid the fire on their floor. I cried more and felt very lonely. Hubby instantly wanted to join the military, but at that time they told him he was too old. He was heartbroken.
Years later Hubby and I found ourselves travelling in Italy. Yo be honest I hadn't paid attention to the date when I initially booked the trip, but we were in Tuscany on September 11th jsut a few years ago. The day after we took a train into Venice for a couple days. As we arrived at the train station we emerged to find this beautiful statue and several tea light candles sitting at the base in honor of Americans and to show support. I was so touched by the tribute that I cried. This time because I felt the love and support of the world for us. Several locals figuring out we were Americans approached and gave us hugs as we all cried.
Ten years later I am not still not able to watch the tributes. The pain remains too fresh in my heart. I know what happened and I haven't given in to the fear those terrorists tried to instill. Instead I cling to my country and the love we as strangers have for one another. We may not have one thing in common, but as Americans we stand together, hand in hand with friends around the world against the evils which lurk. Together we stand in honor of those who lost their life in a useless attack.