9/11 Tenth Anniversary

I didn't really have a prompt to write about today, so I thought I would just reflect upon 9/11, since today is, in fact, the tenth anniversary. To think, it's been ten years since it happened and I still remember it even though I was only seven! It's strange how that works, isn't it? How we remember things that were important but forget all the inconsequential details.

I do remember that the teachers were acting particularly strange that day. Unlike many of the stories I hear from everyone else, I didn't see any teachers crying that I can remember, and I would like to think that I would remember if I did, because I've never seen any of my teachers cry... well, okay, I've seen one cry, but that had nothing to do with 9/11, so I think it would be rude to talk about it any further.

Actually, I didn't even know what was going on until I got home. You know how adults hide things like that from young kids, tell them that everything's fine and not to worry--I'm fairly certain it was something like that at my school. I didn't see any footage of the towers falling until I got home. It was in the upstairs living room, which no longer hosts a TV, but is actually the home of my grand piano and my dad's miniature office-space. Ten years ago, though, it was a lot different.

There was an entertainment center to the left of the stairs just past the hallway. I can remember that I wasn't tall enough to reach the upper shelves yet, where mom kept all of her china cups and dishes. The first time I saw any of the footage, I was sitting about three and a half feet from the screen on the floor, and Dad was standing about a foot to my left, fidgeting. I also remember that we still had that hideous spider-plant hanging next to the patio door and, instead of a piano, there were two old white couches back from when my mom was still in college. I don't think we even had cats yet! (Now there's an odd thought.)

I can still see the metal fold-up table in the middle of the room. We were doing a 750 piece puzzle on it, one of the zodiac sign Sagittarius rescuing a damsel in distress. It's actually one of my favorite puzzles, though I'm not sure where it's disappeared to, a fact that I lament, as I would like to put it together again someday. It wasn't complete, though. The right bottom corner and part of the middle were still missing. Funny how that stands out, isn't it, when I can't even remember what I did at school that day.

And Mom was already home when I got there. Back then, Dad was always the one to pick me up from school, but Mom wouldn't come home until later. They'd let her off early because she worked in one of the three tallest buildings in Minneapolis and they were worried about other attacks. Thinking back, it seems kind of pompous, but then, I guess we're all better safe than sorry, eh?

I didn't really understand why it was such a big deal, though. I don't think any of the kids my age really got it until way, way later. Even the whole "War on Terror" thing that came after... I guess we were just too young to understand how big it was.

And it's strange, because to me it's always been that way. I can barely remember anything further back than maybe Kindergarten, except vaguely going to daycare and being forced to eat (and subsequently throw up) bananas. I didn't even know that the World Trade Center existed when I was 7, and then when we get older we find out that it was a really big deal. I guess we don't have that disbelief that people who were older might have, but then, I don't pretend to know what anyone else feels.

Well... This wasn't much of a writing exercise, but I felt like I should at least write something, you know? It seems like it would be disrespectful to just let the day go by like any other typical Sunday. I'll try and find something a bit more academic to write tomorrow.