As the anniversary of 9/11 approaches so does TV and news footage reminding us all of that awful day. It’s funny how the footage brings such strong memories to the fore. I remember that day clearly. It was my daughter’s second day of kindergarten. She was 5 1/2 years old. We’d gotten up early as a family to have family prayer. My daughter was getting dressed in her bedroom and I was cleaning our shower. My hubby called me with news that he’d heard on the radio that a plane had hit one of the twin towers in New York. I remember laughing, imagining some little prop plane type thing being too stupid to see that tall tower. Of course I was sad for the loss of life but anything devious was beyond my imagining. So, I turned on the news and began to watch and was horrified to realize it was a full sized airplane. I remember sitting there brushing and braiding my daughter’s long silky hair while the second plane hit the other tower….I remember the moment when I realized that the world I grew up in was not the reality that my daughter, this precious child chattering and eating breakfast would inherit. I remember seriously debating NOT sending my daughter to school, but I didn’t want to frighten her. I remember taking her to soccer practice later that day and standing at the sidelines with all of the other shell shocked parents, all of us wanted to protect our children from the violence that was erupting but we knew we wouldn’t be able to. Now, our children are in their late teens and the reality they’ve inherited is a world of war and fear and division. I feel sad.