Marking Six Years
I honestly dread this day every year. Sept. 11. I mean, I can't even talk about this date to anyone without the memories all rushing to the forefront of my mind. All the things that happened that day and the immediate days after. My son's 7th birthday was marred by being the day after the worst terrorist attack on American soil.
I was disappointed when I opened up the local daily newspaper and there was not one single mention of the anniversary of 9/11 on the front page. Not even a one-inch American flag awith a blurb about it on the side of the of page. Nothing. Not a damn thing. Come on, people. And, the media wonders why there is such hostility toward them. Either they don't give a damn about their country and one of the most important days in its history or they simply want us to forget about it. I refuse to forget. 3,000 of my fellow Americans of all walks of life, ethnicities and religions in the melting pot of America were brutally killed that day.
A mother and daughter died together on a flight bound for California to visit Disney Land. A woman lost the father to her unborn child. Many children lost moms and dads. Mothers and fathers lost their only children.
And for what? The sick satisfaction of some assholes that they killed Americans. Did they have a point? I really don't think so. They're jealous that we live in the greatest country in the world. They're mad because we're arrogant. Yeah, we are. I really don't care if you're offended by us. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. Do what I tell my children when they don't like the way someone acts - but there is nothing they can do about it - simply ignore them. I don't understand how killing innocent people makes a point. I really don't.
My dear Hot Rod has finally gotten the visions of the burning towers out of his little 8-year-old mind. Watching the news this morning, he asked what was on fire in the news spot. I reminded him about the bad men flying the airplanes into the buildings and I could see the flicker of remembrance in his eyes. He was a little more than 2 when it happened and it was awful to watch this toddler terrified whenever he saw an airplane. At an airshow in October 2001, he saw an American Airlines jet and pointed to it, telling me it was just like the one that flew into the building. Good God, he paid close enough attention to the news coverage while I held him and cried in September 2001. It never dawned on me that he'd get it. But, he did.
I don't want to let my anger go. I want it to burn inside me and remind me to be vigilant. I don't want this to ever happen on American soil again. I'll be damned if I will let it happen when I can do something to prevent it. I used to think my husband and my best friend's husband were paranoid about the possibility that America could ever be attacked or invaded and that we'd have to defend ourselves. Never in our lifetime, I thought. But, after 9/11, I am no longer that Polyanna who feels invincible. We're not. I'm not. And, I will fight tooth and nail to preserve the life that I have worked so hard to have for my family. Yeah, the prissy little soccer mom is ready to pick a gun, a hammer, a knife - whatever it takes - to defend our freedom. Think of me as a little hobbit fighting the orcs in LOTR. Don't understimate a pissed off over protective mom.
Don't forget what happened on Sept. 11, 2001. I won't.
A bit of Army of Mom 9/11 archives:
2004 post
2005 post
2006 post
I was disappointed when I opened up the local daily newspaper and there was not one single mention of the anniversary of 9/11 on the front page. Not even a one-inch American flag awith a blurb about it on the side of the of page. Nothing. Not a damn thing. Come on, people. And, the media wonders why there is such hostility toward them. Either they don't give a damn about their country and one of the most important days in its history or they simply want us to forget about it. I refuse to forget. 3,000 of my fellow Americans of all walks of life, ethnicities and religions in the melting pot of America were brutally killed that day.
A mother and daughter died together on a flight bound for California to visit Disney Land. A woman lost the father to her unborn child. Many children lost moms and dads. Mothers and fathers lost their only children.
And for what? The sick satisfaction of some assholes that they killed Americans. Did they have a point? I really don't think so. They're jealous that we live in the greatest country in the world. They're mad because we're arrogant. Yeah, we are. I really don't care if you're offended by us. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. Do what I tell my children when they don't like the way someone acts - but there is nothing they can do about it - simply ignore them. I don't understand how killing innocent people makes a point. I really don't.
My dear Hot Rod has finally gotten the visions of the burning towers out of his little 8-year-old mind. Watching the news this morning, he asked what was on fire in the news spot. I reminded him about the bad men flying the airplanes into the buildings and I could see the flicker of remembrance in his eyes. He was a little more than 2 when it happened and it was awful to watch this toddler terrified whenever he saw an airplane. At an airshow in October 2001, he saw an American Airlines jet and pointed to it, telling me it was just like the one that flew into the building. Good God, he paid close enough attention to the news coverage while I held him and cried in September 2001. It never dawned on me that he'd get it. But, he did.
I don't want to let my anger go. I want it to burn inside me and remind me to be vigilant. I don't want this to ever happen on American soil again. I'll be damned if I will let it happen when I can do something to prevent it. I used to think my husband and my best friend's husband were paranoid about the possibility that America could ever be attacked or invaded and that we'd have to defend ourselves. Never in our lifetime, I thought. But, after 9/11, I am no longer that Polyanna who feels invincible. We're not. I'm not. And, I will fight tooth and nail to preserve the life that I have worked so hard to have for my family. Yeah, the prissy little soccer mom is ready to pick a gun, a hammer, a knife - whatever it takes - to defend our freedom. Think of me as a little hobbit fighting the orcs in LOTR. Don't understimate a pissed off over protective mom.
Don't forget what happened on Sept. 11, 2001. I won't.
A bit of Army of Mom 9/11 archives:
2004 post
2005 post
2006 post
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