Friday, September 11, 2009


I was beginning Phonics when the teacher across the hall stepped in, "The World Trade Center has been hit." Wow, that's some horrible accident. What could that mean? A few minutes later, "They are suspecting that we are under a terrorist attack." I saw a bit of the footage and immediately headed over to the computer to find out how close my Dad was to the Towers. Everyone was scattering. Looking. Searching. Making sure that those close to them were no where near the attack. Unfortunately not all were far enough and unfortunately the attack was on their family directly, not only our Nation.

Dad was fine in the train station, although he was stuck there for a few days because they closed the tunnels. Whew. I was so very thankful.

9/11. We don't even call it September. We all know what 9/11 we're referring to, don't we. It's the 9/11 the day that our soil was invaded. It's also Mike's birthday. Every year I hardly know what to do. That year was tough because we wanted to go to dinner, but we felt torn. Dare we celebrate when the lives of thousands have been buried under debris. Dare we celebrate when men risked their lives to hijack the plane back in order to spare the lives of those fortunate enough to be on the ground? Do we dare hold our loved ones close when there is an empty side on so many beds? I never know what to do.

I do celebrate Mike. He is here and he is mine. This morning, however, my emotions caught me off guard. I don't know if it was hearing George Bush, (on the radio) or the cries for help and mercy or what, but it hit me that we are at war and have been for 8 years. I sleep sound every night. I homeschool my children and kiss my husband when he comes home from work. I buy ice-cream for no reason and waste food. I act like we're free cause we wanna be. You know what is bizarre? My Step-Father missed Julia's birth because he was in Iraq. His body will never be the same and I'm sure there are secrets that are tucked away that torment him. My brother-in-law is a Purple Hearted, Combat Wounded Veteran at the ripe old age of 24. I know there is a war and while they were there I knew it. I prayed for it. But, our table is full again. God let me remember that some folks have empty seats. Some babies will only ever see a picture of the one they would call Daddy. Heaven help me!

I think about the phone calls that the media reported. People calling from airplanes and buildings engulfed in flames. I don't remember one person saying, "Hey honey, tell much money do we have in savings? Do you think my boss thinks I'm good?" Not one. They were desperate attempts to tell the people that they loved the most that they loved them and that they were loved in return. In the end, that's all there is. We got mad because the people we love were hurt, or worse, killed. We got mad because this is supposed to be a safe place.

You know what I try to do? To honor those who lost their lives? I wish I were a better Patriot, but I keep short accounts. Try to anyway. I snuggle with my husband and read with my children. I love the people around me because I am reminded that each day we have together really is a gift. It really might not happen again.

Paul said it best when he said that these three remain, faith, hope and love and the greatest of these

Father in heaven, would you please comfort those who mourn the anniversary of that last phone call. Be the Father to those whose Dad is only a picture and a story. Please be the provider for those who lost so much so quickly. Please, Father, won't you please draw us back to You that Your name would be exalted in this country. I pray for the men and women, our soldiers, sleeping outside in filthy conditions. I pray that you would whisper to them of your love and faithfulness. Please do not send them without your presence. God, help us. In Jesus name.

I am nervous posting this because I feel it is such a sensitive subject. My prayer is that it will just cause us to pray for those families who have lost families and who have family members gone right this very minute. I also want to remind us all that life is well.


Jaime said...

Beautifully put! The emotions evoked on 9/11 are indescribable, and I didn't even suffer directly. But, I agree, I put on my facebook today that 8 yrs. ago, I was expecting my 1st child, and I remember thinking what kind of world am I bringing innocent life into? Well, now I look at her and like to think that I'm making a difference; I hope I'm making the world a better place by raising such special daughters of God! I really feel "by small and simple means, great things come to pass"! God bless all us mamas trying to do our part to make the future of this country whole, stable, and moral. And God bless our nation as a whole!

berrypatch said...

Ali - very well said. Very well said indeed.

Ashley said...

Ali, What a beautiful post & tribute! As the daughter of a disabled veteran, I realize how much we as a nation forget the war going on around the world. I also understand the sacrifice of our soldiers & their families. I, too, waited for news from "ground zero". It was an incredibly long wait. Thank you for having the courage to speak your mind. You have an amazing gift in your writings. May God continue to use you to share with others!