It was a Tuesday

I posted this last year. 

It is a Tuesday, and it was a Tuesday.  Gives me chills just thinking about it.  Take a moment to think about those we lost.

 

To me it’s always a day of the week that marks an anniversary of something, as much so as the date.  To different people, different days mean different things.  Things are different about various days of the week.  My Mom has always been off work on Tuesdays, back when I worked in retail, I was usually off on Tuesdays as well.  Although, Mack’s birthday is the 24th, I know that she was born on a Friday night, into the wee hours, almost early Saturday morning.  I know that my husband and I met on a Thursday evening, and went on our very first date on a Friday.  I know that although we were married on the 10th of March, we were married on a Saturday afternoon.  I know that Mea came home on a Sunday afternoon.  Those days of the week are ingrained in me,  in addition to the actual date. 

On Tuesday September 11th, 2001, I had the day off of work.  I had taken Mack to school, I stopped and put gas in my car.  I grabbed a cup of coffee, and went home.  I was watching the Today Show, and folding laundry, packing for my annual trip to Orlando for work the following day.  I remember still being a bit torn about this trip.  My boss had asked me to leave a few days early and attend the District Manager’s portion of the conference with him, as a training experience, he was grooming me to someday take his spot.  I had decided not to go early.  I was a newlywed.  I had a nine-year old who had just started the fourth grade.  I felt it was too much, too soon to be away from my new family.  I told him I would go with him next year.

He had flow out early that Monday morning.  He ended up stranded in Orlando, for almost a week.

As I was doing my normal Tuesday, is when the planes hit.  I was meeting my Mom and my sister and my new baby niece out for breakfast.  We discussed over the phone cancelling, but I think we needed each other.  So we met anyway.  None of us really ate.  We watched the television coverage, and sat.  At least we were all together.  We saw the buildings crumble, and fall down.  We cried.  We all snuggled that newborn baby like you wouldn’t believe.  My niece was twenty-four days old. 

When we were done, I went home, and did nothing but watch the coverage.  I called the school to see if they were letting the kids out early, and they initially said no.  My store called and said that the mall had decided to close.  There were rumors that any heavily populated area was at risk, so they were closing for the day.  School did end up closing early, so I went and picked up Mack.  She was terrified. 

 

They didn’t tell the kids much about what had happened.  When we got home, I limited what we watched on television.  I didn’t want Mack to be too afraid.  She was freaked out enough already without actually seeing what the people of the world were specifically going through at that moment.  When I was in junior high, I saw the Challenger blow up live on TV, in my science class.  I remember how haunting it was for me, and that was limited to a few people, was an accident, and not an attack on our country.  I pulled her close, talked to her, and reassured her that her Dad and I were going to protect her, no matter what.  Then we prayed for the families, the injured and the dead.

At one point, waiting for my oldest step-daughter and my husband to come home, I was just standing out on our porch staring out into nowhere.  Just thinking.  Then I realized how eerie and quiet it was.  No planes flying overhead.  Hardly any traffic on the streets.  Everyone had gone home.  Everyone was glued to the coverage.  No one could believe what had happened to us.

Mea is too young to really understand.  After seeing all the coverage on TV lately, she had questions, which I answered the best I can, in a way that she can understand.  It’s all I can do.  I wish that I could tell her that this is something that could never happen again, but I don’t think that I honestly can do that. 

Just like with Mack all those years ago, I told Mea that Momma and Daddy love her, that sometimes bad people do bad things to innocent people.  That Momma and Daddy will do anything to protect her.  Always.  Then we said a prayer together for those who died, who were hurt, and those who survived.

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One Comment on “It was a Tuesday”

  1. Jen says:

    You and I are similar in remembering the days of the week. I got married to P on a Monday (I often forget the date, but I remember it was a Monday). E was born on a Saturday. My mother was diagnosed with Breast Cancer for the first time on a Thursday and for the second time on a Tuesday. That Tuesday is one I won’t forget.


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