Like so many other Americans, and others from around the world, I sit and remember that tragic day 10 years ago.  The terror attacks of September 11th, 2001.

I remember...  My second child, Kaia, was just two months old.  That morning was the first morning since she'd been born that I was getting the chance to sleep in.  The hubs had gotten both she and Neil, only 2, out of bed, fed, and dressed.  He came to the bedroom with a strange look on his face.  He told me that something was going on in New York.  He'd just turned on the TV and Peter Jennings (the voice of all things news to my memory) was reporting.  He said, "The World Trade Center is on fire, but that's all I know.  You might want to get up and check it out."

I grudgingly got out of bed.  I wanted to sleep!

I remember...  I had just sat down on the couch.  Was trying to take in what Peter was saying.  When it happened...

I remember...  I watched the second plane, Flight 175, fly into the South Tower.  I wasn't sure I was really seeing what I knew in my heart I was watching.

I remember...  I looked into the sky later that day, thinking I might never see a plane there again.

I remember...  Looking at my two young children, wondering if life would ever be the same for them, how their childhood would be so different from mine.

Today, 10 years later,  I look at Rowan, a different two month old.

And I remember.

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