sitting in my home in Connecticut, watching Sesame Street as I readied J for preschool.
Then the phone rang,
"What are you watching, change the channel, a plane flew into the World Trade Center"
There I sat, tears streaming down my face, poor J asking what was wrong.
I couldn't answer.
I dropped him off at school, went to work, and couldn't believe people where going about their daily business.
We had left NY but a few months before.
What of our friends, our neighbors, where they OK?
Can't reach them, the phones are busy, busy, busy.
Then the phone call from my Step-mother-in-law,
"Your father-in-law is there, he left for NY when the first plane hit. We haven't heard from him - the cell towers are down."
He was at ground zero, part of the rescue efforts
After a week or so, my brother-in-law went to do his service for his fellow firefighters.
Both of them have health problems that have developed since that day - connected, who knows.
One thing is for certain, I will remember and treasurer those who gave their lives for us, and their families and friends whose lives where forever altered.
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