Remembering

This morning started out for me very much like this same day eight years ago. I woke up to a bright, clear September day not expecting anything particularly interesting to happen. Like in 2001, I started my day slowly; then preparing for work and packing up a toddler for daycare, today squeezing in a shower and caring for a newborn. Eight years ago I turned on the TV while I ate breakfast and saw the damage left by the first of the airplanes to hit the World Trade Center. Today I did not turn on the TV or even the radio as I usually do and so, as a result, it took me awhile to realize today was September 11.

It's funny, because I can hardly remember what happened last week with much clarity but I, like so many other Americans, can remember the events of September 11, 2001 very vividly. I remember being at my office after dropping Madeleine off at daycare and hearing there was a fourth airplane missing and that perhaps the capitol, where my employer worked, was the target. I remember leaving work and picking Madeleine up and taking her home. I didn't think there was any real danger in Janesville, Wisconsin of all places, but still, I wanted my family close. I remember finally getting ahold of Joe, then a law student. He came home early that day too. Most of all I remember staring at the TV, so horrifyingly mesmerizing, for the entire day.

Today is nothing like that horrible day eight years ago. I have three more kids today than I did then, the three oldest who are with my dad and Diana today, not with me, and that's OK; I'm not rushing off to pick them up. I went grocery shopping. I paid bills. I did laundry and didn't turn on the TV once.

And yet, still, I remember. I have thought about the day eight years ago often today. And while our lives have changed considerably in eight years, I appreciate the fact that my memories of such an important day have not.