You're my favorite today.

11 years ago at this time I was trying desperately to get another hour of sleep.

My 4 month old had had a fussy night, and my husband had woken me up at 4:30 a.m. to say goodbye.  

He was going to NYC for a business meeting and had to catch a 6 a.m. flight.

My kindergartner was up watching cartoons, and the phone rang.

I ignored it.  Just let me sleep.

The machine picked up and since I had it on silent (like any new mama does), I couldn't hear the message.

It rang again.  Good grief! If that wakes up the baby I'm gonna be so pissed.

It didn't.  I let it go to machine again.

5 minutes later, it rang again.  Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. 

I grabbed the phone and ran downstairs so the baby wouldn't wake up, cursing whoever was on the other end.

It was my husband. 

Wait..what?  Wasn't he supposed to be on a plane?

I could hear the panic in his voice as he quickly assured me he was okay.

What?

He asked if I'd been watching the news.  Uh, no.  And unless it's a yellow talking sponge, you know that's a silly question to ask me.

He told me a plane had flown into the World Trade Center and so they had to ground all flights in the entire country.  He was calling me from Detroit.

A plane? Oh, god! Like a small plane that went out of control??

The last innocent thoughts I had that day...and maybe the last innocent thoughts I'd ever have.

Over the next few minutes, I'd sit on my bed, hands covering my eyes as I watched the second tower fall - live - and listen to the horror filled voices of the news crews.  

Over the next few hours I'd flit around my house with no purpose, holding my girls, crying and shaking and not knowing if I should put my kindergartner on the school bus and send her to her public school (I did not).  

I'd wait anxiously for every call from my husband, chronicling his long and fearful drive home from Detroit.

Fearful. To rent a car. To send your child to school. To drive across two states. To make the drive to your friends' house for dinner. To put your children to bed. To wonder if a bomb was suddenly going to be dropped on your small farm town with a population of 5,000.  Ridiculous.  Ridiculous?

11 years ago we all became a lot more fearful.

And then as the years went on, a little less.

But I can still remember the sickness and horror I felt, knowing that my husband was on a plane to NYC that very morning, but the overwhelming gratefulness that, unlike so many others who woke up and got on a plane to NYC that morning, he was coming home.  

That day made us all more cautious, more aware, more frightened, more compassionate and more grateful.  

It's been 11 years, but I still remember. 

Our first visit to the 9-11 memorial ~ June 2012