10 Years.

I didn't post on the 11th. There was such a blur of other posts, TV coverage, Facebook memorials. But that day is something I'm reminded of constantly, not just on the anniversary of it. That day is why my husband spends a year at a time overseas, risking his life to fight back against what was done to our country in 2001. My parents worked in commercial aviation for nearly 20 years, stopping only a few years before this event. My mom's best friend was only a few blocks away, having just gotten into NYC as a flight attendant the day before. She's the one that woke me up that day, when I was home sick from school, telling me what was going on. I remember vividly looking down to see the I Heart NY tee shirt I'd slept in, and looking out the window. Realizing that the world I was waking up to was so irrevocably different than the one I'd fallen asleep in the night before.

That day changed so much, and was so full of needless loss and hurt. The 11th, today, and always I remember those lost, those left behind, and those fighting for America.