September 11th, 2001 holds an important meaning to many people in most developed countries of the world. To me, it brings up many other feelings... feelings that the family members of almost 3,000 people wish they could feel... My feelings? I'm grateful that my son is alive. On September 10, 2001, Jonah had a bit of a cold, and I went into the twins' room to get them up for the day and Jonah was awake, sitting in his crib, but looked unusual...his lips were purple but looked like they were turning back to their pink, normal color. I really didn't think too much of it, but shortly, I would be. Maybe an hour or so later, Jonah had a series of very serious seizures that left him blue, unresponsive and not breathing. All of the medical training a person can have...it all goes out the window when its your kid. I called 911 and Jonah did start breathing again. By the time the paramedics arrived, Jonah was OK and was sitting up and giggling. We got to the hospital, where he had another seizure and he was admitted. He stayed overnight, but we knew he'd be transferred to Chicago, where his neurologist is. Well, the following day...as you can imagine, they were clearing out the city, not letting more people in! So this is where I watched the drama unfold. I remember very clearly that my sister called me in Jonah's hospital room and asked me if I was watching TV. I told her no and she said to turn on the television. I asked her what channel and she said that it didn't matter. You know its something big when you hear that. I was holding Jonah and on the phone so my hands were full and I asked her what had happened. She told me that a plane had hit the world trade center. OK...yeah, that qualifies as big. We said goodbye and I turned the television on just in time to see the second plane hit the second tower...thinking that it must have been a replay of what had happened earlier. But no, we all know now that that's not what the situation was. I continued to hold my baby and watch the developments of two more planes going down and was so saddened by what was happening...of course, by the time the second plane hit the second tower, we all knew what was going on. And it made me even more grateful to be holding my son. Jonah's pediatrician was grounded in Ireland and was not able to fly back for quite a time, but we did, after a couple days, get transferred to the other hospital...but to this day, five action packed years later, September 11th is a day that means thankfulness to me. It symbolizes childhood innocence not lost, which is painfully ironic when its considered how many children lost parents and how many people lost friends and partners & loved ones. The sadness of the day, at this date, five years later, is to me, overshadowed by a sense of "togetherness" and a people able to overcome... The cowards who did this to our country did not win. In accordance with Christianity, these monsters certainly did not go to be with Allah...they are somewhere else, a place of which they are most deserving. This is not to bash Islam or Muslims in the least, this country was founded because of religion and I do believe in freedom to choose your faith. The cowards who did this killed other Muslims...I doubt that this is called for in the Koran...I don't fault Muslims in the least for this. I fault the extremists...because it is they who carried this out and they who will ultimately pay the price for what they did...in fact, the world was automatically a better place when these people died (the terrorists on the planes, not the innocent victims, of course.)
We will hear a lot of repition today, flashbacks of painful memories and will see all of the difficult-to-watch photos and video clips of that day 5 years ago...I know I'm not going to forget, and I don't need the photos to remind me, but as a nation, as a world, let's not forget. Don't forget to pray for the families who lost loved ones. Don't forget to smile at a stranger...the rescues that took place were because of strangers...people who needed to help. We are only human, but our strength is multiplied when others need help.
I am going to spend the day at home with my boys. All three of them.
Never Forget.