9/11 Then and Now

Ten years ago on 9/11, I was 12 years old.  I had just started the 7th grade, which here in Chicago, means the first year of Junior High.  Classes started at 8:30 AM and I arrived at school around 8:15, after the towers had already been hit.  Before I had heard of the WTC being hit, I had chosen to wear a New York t-shirt.  When I got to school, everyone was appalled that I was wearing a New York shirt.  I had no idea why until someone told me the towers had been hit. 

The rest of the day went by in a blur.  Some people I knew were crying, some went home.  I was saddened by what had happened but I couldn't really grasp it.  I hate to say it but I didn't really care.

However, now I find myself caring.  I don't know if it's because I'm older and wiser now or if it's because I'm a mom.  I couldn't imagine myself losing my child, my parents, or my boyfriend like that.  I just watched a TLC special about how two men stayed in the building to help others from the 88th and 89th floors get out alive but didn't make it themselves.   I don't even want to know what it was like for those who were in the towers and knew they were going to die.  To think that some people found themselves flinging themselves from open windows to escape from being burned to death. 

Today, my heart goes out to the families and friends who lost someone; to all of the firefighters, policemen, and good Samaritans who lost their lives trying to help others.