Memories

It's funny. All our lives, we go through daily motions. As children we go to school, hang out with friends, and watch cartoons. As adults, we work, pay bills, and turn into our parents even though we told ourselves we wouldn't.

Most days are just a blur, but some days, some days you remember every little details.

When I was 9 or 10 years old, I remember laying across the foot of my mom's bed while she folded clothes and watch the news. They were reporting of the people gathered at Graceland in memory of Elvis (must have been his birthday or anniversary of his death, I can't remember). I laid there watching the faces of those people standing there crying and hugging each other and I just couldn't understand why they were so upset.  I asked my mom, "Why are they so upset, he was just a singer". Her answer has stuck with me to this day. "They are not just crying because he was a singer, he was a legend. So many people grew up with him in our lives, and his music touched a lot of people. He was such an major thing for so many people. When he died, most people can tell you exactly what they were doing when he died. It is just one of those things that you never forget."

Honestly, I thought that was the stupidest thing. Why would people remember that event? What was the point? People die everyday.

The world kept turning.....

And then I was a senior in high school. I got up, running late as usual because those last few minutes of laying in bed were just so important. I rushed through getting ready to go, cursing at those few minutes when I remember that I have a lunch date with a guy that I had been crushing on for a while, and flying out the door with no time to spare. I make it to first period Senior English in the library where we are working on our Senior paper that is going to make or break this class for us. I am just sitting down after searching for books on the history of mummification when I realize that I don't have my folder with all my notes and other papers. In usual ditzy teenager fashion, I laugh with my friends, explain to my teacher and head to my car to get my junk, only to realize that I have locked my keys in my car.

I stomp back into the school, irritated at the fact that I now have to call and get my spares from my mom that will also include a lecture on being more responsible. I head to the office, say hello to the ladies that see me far more often than they should, lean over the desk, grab the phone, and brace myself for the lecture to come.

It never came.

"Hello?"

"Hey I locked my keys in my car and I need some papers out of them this period, can you bring me my spare?"

"Oh God Meg, oh God." By this point, she is sobbing into the phone and I am starting to panic.

"Momma, what's wrong"

"Turn on the t.v. baby, just turn on the t.v."

I reach to the t.v. behind me, ignoring the office ladies asking me what's wrong. I couldn't make any sense of what I was seeing. There is smoke and screaming and people running. There is absolute terror and nobody knows what is going on.

My mom is sobbing over the phone. I tell her to bring them when she can, not to worry about it.

"I love you mom" "I love you to Meg, so much, I love you too"

I stand there in horror watching all those images flit across the screen. The office lady ask me to go to the library and tell my teacher to turn on the big screen t.v. I remember every step I took down that hallway. I remember trying to wipe away the tears that would not stop streaming down my face. I remember not being able to speak without sobbing. I walked to the t.v and turned it on. I looked around at the people that I grew up with. Most of them I have known from the first day we started our school journey together. Together, we grew up as we watched the horror that unfolded with the second plane.


Time stops. And yet it doesn't.

The bell rings and we all walk to our next class. There is no laughter. No talking. Tears, so many tears. Boy, girl, student, teacher. So many tears. No talking. Just taking deep breaths and praying to God that you will make it to your next class and it will all be okay. The next class is so much worse. We watch as people jump, fall, run, scream, and pray. We watch as the towers fall. We cry out in pain and in horror. We hold hands and hold each other and simply watch.

Time stops. And yet it doesn't.

The bell rings for lunch and we all make our way to the commons. Nobody is eating. We sit in clusters and watch the big screen on the wall waiting for something to change. .

Those moments at lunch are the ones that I will never forget. The words terrorist started to break into the broadcast. Hijacking. The number of people on each plane. In those moments, so many of us lost what little innocence we had left. The world wasn't about us anymore. Things that seemed so important before then just didn't matter anymore.

Time stops, and yet it doesn't.

The bell rings. I meet the welding teacher in the parking lot. Mom still hasn't brought my keys and I have to leave campus to go to work. He jimmy's my door and off I go. I hurry home, scanning the radio for more information or any change on my way. Mom is sitting on the couch with a box of Kleenex. I will never forget the hug. We held each other and simply prayed through the tears. That hug held more words than I can begin to say.

I change into my scrubs and head to the nursing home. There is no laughter there. No smiles. Even my sweet little Alzheimer patients are quiet and subdued. It's on the t.v. in the dining hall. Every room with a t.v. has it to the news.

 By late evening, details were coming out. Horror turned to anger. People turned from the t.v. to each other. Hands were extended and hearts were opened. Flags were raised, friends were made, and Faith was found.


Over the past 10 years, I have watched people I have known all my life go to war. I have cried when several of them didn't get to come home. I have watched several members of my family be deployed. I have gone to bed praying for their safety. I have watched both of my baby brothers become firefighters. Both went extra steps to become certified in disasters like what I witnessed on Sept. 11th.

I grew up that day. Our whole country did.



10 years later, Time still stops when I think about that day, but just like then, time keeps moving

.

Never Forget.