9/11

I remember exactly where I was on the infamous 9/11.  

Don't we all have a story like that?  Mine starts with:  It was a beautiful fall day in Minnesota, a bluebird day, my mom would call it.  The sky was so clear and the clouds were white and puffy; they looked as though they'd been painted on.  I was on the threshold of my senior year of college - the end was in sight - and I was teaching preschool to pay the bills.  My littles were running around, enjoying free play before we were going to head upstairs for art time with the nursing home residents.  Their chatter filled the room with a throb of energy.  Another teacher came into my classroom, white as a ghost, and said her husband had just called and as she told me what had happened - what was still happening, my mind didn't quite comprehend and all I could think was: "What kind of dumb-ass falls asleep while flying a plane?"  

But as the details came in and the shock of that monstrosity settled around me, I looked at my preschoolers, still oblivious of the dangers of the world, and for just a moment, I envied their innocence.

Six  years later, on September 11, 2007, I again found myself holding my breath and clutching my phone for the entire day...but for an entirely different reason.  My brother was on the cusp of becoming a dad, thus making me an auntie for the first time.  My heart raced all day; my palms were sweaty and my patience was non-existent.  On that 9/11, the day was filled the hope and the promise of a new person entering the world.  Isn't it funny how a baby makes even the saddest days, the hardest of times, easier to handle?  That just by smelling their little heads and kissing their tiny toes, you can feel free from whatever the dark clouds are that loom over your head.  He did that for me.  And even though he is officially a big boy now, his smile still obliterates any dark clouds I might be carrying around.  Every time I see him, every time he wraps his little arms around my neck or snuggles up onto my lap for a story, I am reminded that there is good in this world.

Happy Birthday, sweet boy.  You continue to make our days brighter.

Auntie Heather loves you so much and so much.

I remember exactly where I was on the infamous 9/11.  

Don't we all have a story like that?  Mine starts with:  It was a beautiful fall day in Minnesota, a bluebird day, my mom would call it.  The sky was so clear and the clouds were white and puffy; they looked as though they'd been painted on.  I was on the threshold of my senior year of college - the end was in sight - and I was teaching preschool to pay the bills.  My littles were running around, enjoying free play before we were going to head upstairs for art time with the nursing home residents.  Their chatter filled the room with a throb of energy.  Another teacher came into my classroom, white as a ghost, and said her husband had just called and as she told me what had happened - what was still happening, my mind didn't quite comprehend and all I could think was: "What kind of dumb-ass falls asleep while flying a plane?"  

But as the details came in and the shock of that monstrosity settled around me, I looked at my preschoolers, still oblivious of the dangers of the world, and for just a moment, I envied their innocence.

Six  years later, on September 11, 2007, I again found myself holding my breath and clutching my phone for the entire day...but for an entirely different reason.  My brother was on the cusp of becoming a dad, thus making me an auntie for the first time.  My heart raced all day; my palms were sweaty and my patience was non-existent.  On that 9/11, the day was filled the hope and the promise of a new person entering the world.  Isn't it funny how a baby makes even the saddest days, the hardest of times, easier to handle?  That just by smelling their little heads and kissing their tiny toes, you can feel free from whatever the dark clouds are that loom over your head.  He did that for me.  And even though he is officially a big boy now, his smile still obliterates any dark clouds I might be carrying around.  Every time I see him, every time he wraps his little arms around my neck or snuggles up onto my lap for a story, I am reminded that there is good in this world.

Happy Birthday, sweet boy.  You continue to make our days brighter.

Auntie Heather loves you so much and so much.