Five years ago today. I woke up early, after all I had a nine month old. I turned on the tv and stopped in my tracks. It took a minute to register. I screamed for Robert to turn on the tv, that the Trade Center had been hit by a plane. One tower had just fallen. I sat on the couch and cried. When we realized that we were under attack, that someone did this on purpose, I cried even harder, I still do. I am right now. It is still fresh, I think it always will be. Robert had been taking the train into work, I begged him not too. That feeling will never go away, I will never forget. The sound of an empty sky at first, then the fighter jets filled with rescue crews speeding across the sky. Some day I will tell my boys about it, although how could they ever understand? I still don't.
I like to remember the Sunday before, Sept. 9th. We spent it at the Santa Barbara Museum's Butterfly Pavilion, blissfully unaware of just how drastically our world was about to change.
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