Remembering

Today, as my son Ian prepared to depart for Deep / Young Academy with his brother Jacob and sister Allie, he took a moment to set into place in the flatbed of his truck a large American flag.

And I’m remembering that, 13 years ago today, I was preparing to pull Ian and Jake in their little red wagon to their first day of preschool in Indianapolis, IN. It was a beautiful, crisp, mid-west morning.

That’s when my sister Katie called, “Are you sitting down?” she asked.

Our parents were traveling that day, having been working in Navajo country in Arizona. “Oh, no!” I replied. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you watching TV?” Katie inquired.

“No. What’s going on?”

“Turn on the ‘Today Show’.”

And that’s when the horror began.

Never before, in my perhaps sheltered little life, had I experienced anything so tremendously, unbelievably horrific. Truly, as I watched with countless others around the globe the terrifying images of the World Trade Center and the aftermath of terrorist attacks, I simply could not comprehend the magnitude of what was happening.

I could not take it in.

Perhaps I still can’t — even after all these years…

… after all the stories

… after all the rebuilding

… after all the healing.

The other day, I sat and had lunch with a friend who mentioned that her husband suffers from PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and that it’s always worse this time of year. “He lost 47 personal friends as a result of 9-11,” she said. “And because of decisions he made as a fireman in NYC — allowing firefighters to work overtime — he battles guilt because many of them are now suffering and dying from cancer, the result of the toxins and carcinogens present in the air they breathed as they fought heroically to save others’ lives.”

I looked at her, and all I could say… “I had no idea.”

Most of us don’t have any idea. 
We know where we were when we first heard the news.
 We remember, most likely, sitting in front of our TVs for hours — trying to take in and process the magnitude of all that had happened.
We’ve likely read books — testimonies — written by the widows, friends and family members of some of the heroes who flew on planes overtaken by terrorists or who fought to rescue others from burning buildings.

Two words ring in many of our ears today —

“Let’s roll!” (Todd Beamer)

And this morning, I watched as my 16-year old son — who was only 3 when our nation (our WORLD!) reeled on its axis — thoughtfully set into place an American flag in the back of his truck… a reminder, to himself and to others, of the freedoms we’re privileged to enjoy in this nation.

Then they “rolled” out the driveway and down our country road — the flag dancing behind them.

And as I watched them go, I said a prayer for their safety… for the day ahead.

I pray they are courageous in the face of fear.

I pray they are kind when faced with an opportunity to be mean.

I pray they are humble when faced with the temptation to be prideful.

I pray they will act selflessly when given an opportunity to be selfish.

And I thank God for His goodness, despite the ugliness that is a reality in this broken world.

Truly, we have no idea.
We never know what is lurking, just around the corner.

And we cannot know all that another is suffering.

But we can do our best to be good stewards of the freedoms we’ve been given.
 And we can still express our gratitude by paying it forward in random acts of kindness, generosity and love.

And today — together — we remember.

“Let’s roll!”