9/11

When I woke up this morning, I knew it was 9/11. I paused just briefly before turning off my alarm clock and flipping on the lamp next to my bed to think about where I was and what I was doing eight years ago. I was six months pregnant with Leasie and at a doctor's appointment. The office closed early and sent all the patients home. I listened to the radio as I drove around the beltway in complete disbelief.

The rest of this morning was normal. Routine. Kids dressed. Breakfast served. Baby tickled. With only the slightest pause to watch a bit of the Today show as I cleared the breakfast dishes and heard Matt Lauer announce the memorial services in NY. It was background noise, really, drowned out seconds later as I turned on the faucet and steam fogged the window over the sink.

Then while checking email and facebook a couple hours later, I saw this picture that my friend, Justin Hart, posted on facebook. He wrote "Rode behind this guy on the way to work. God Bless America."

I more than paused.
I felt.

The image tugged at my heart-strings. And I remembered why it is so important...to remember.