Remembering

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Ten years ago today I worked a forty hour a week job and was a single mother to Garrett.

Garrett was two and a half.

I was 24.

I remember being at work and hearing word of the towers being hit and falling.

I was certain the world was coming to an end.

Absolutely certain.

I wanted to be at home with my son.

Every channel on the television was coverage of New York.

Every image scared me.

Completely terrified me.

The uncertainty of our future was something I could not digest or wrap my head around.

And being a mother you ask yourself over and over again, what kind of world have I  brought my child into?

Ten years later, I flip through the pages of People magazine.

I see the faces of children who have grown up without father’s. Father’s who lost their lives on 9/11.

It breaks my heart into a million pieces.

The words of children- wondering what it would be like to know their father’s.

The only images these children have of their dad are from photographs before they were born.

Their families remind them how they look like their father, act like their father, smile like their father.

It is just so sad to me.

Mother’s with courage who press ahead because they know this is what their child needs. The mother’s are the pillar of strength.

Wanting to take this pain from their children and there is just absolutely no way to do that.

I hurt for these families.

Today, we hugged our children a little tighter.

We see the memorials.

We read the names of those lost.

We cry for the families.

And we remember.

Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.