It's been exactly 9 years since the World Trade Center towers, a field and the Pentagon were hit by jets. All those lives taken, all those beautiful things destroyed.
My husband and I were on the road driving for Swift as truck drivers. We had just gotten married on the 26 of August and couldn't believe our eyes and ears when we sat down to eat dinner at a truck stop restaurant in Kentucky. We had just been to New York the week before, seen the twin towers and thought how blessed we were to be able to see the countryside together.
We'd been driving all day, and quite by design I'd say, did not (thankfully) have the radio on. Which, in all honesty, is unusual for us, because normally we'd be listening to NPR.
Looking back at that day a few days later, I recalled noticing there were no jets in the air that day. Which when after hearing what had happened in NYC, made complete sense and I realized after noticing no planes, I didn't give it much thought beyond that.
Now, here we sat, numbly eating our dinner and thinking how lucky we were that we'd already gone to NYC and were not back there this trip. We finished our meal, paid the cashier and went out to our truck and Jack our JRT, hugged him, took him for his walk and then climbed back in the cab and got ready for bed. I don't think either one of us slept much that night for all the images in our heads and thinking about the lives lost.
Now, here I sit, 9 years later. I'm safely in my home in Arizona, I have an almost 8 year old daughter and my father has been living with us for the past 3 months. My daughter knows we are remembering those lost in the tragedy of 9 years ago, but not really understanding why. I'm still not sure a 7 year old is quite ready to hear all about it or that she will even completely comprehend what happened all those years ago.
I may tell her bits and pieces, let her ask questions and answer them, or find the answers as best I can. Life is good right now. I'm truly blessed to have wonderful family and friends and my health.
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