So today is 9 - 11. I'm sure everyone one of us can remember where we were and what we were doing that day.
My horror began a few days before. My marriage broke up and I was just learning about the affair. My ex had just moved out. My kids saw their family being destroyed then it seemed like the world was falling apart too.
My youngest, Ashley, turned 13 the day after 9 - 11 (yes, she turns 24 tomorrow). I had bought her tickets to Backstreet Boys in Toronto on her birthday. Strangely, her dad had not wanted to go (figured that out too late). It did not look like they would even perform but announced that afternoon they were going ahead in honour of a band member who was on one of the planes that went down.
So we drove to Toronto. Went to a nice restaurant. She couldn't eat. Felt ill. (No wonder, I guess). I paid $700 for the 2 tickets. Guess what? She lay down on the seat and never lifted her head to even see them!
That's what I remember of 9 - 11. But knowing that my kids were home and safe that day - that is what I needed. And we clung together. And we watched in horror like everyone else. And now we remember all those who died. And we are grateful for surviving and although the world has changed. We are all stronger for it.
