September 11, 2001, was intended to be a momentous day in my life. The night before, I had decided that the next day would be the first day I wore a pair of maternity slacks to work. The rubber band trick just wasn't working any longer with my "real" pants, and it was time to accommodate the expanding waistline.
Obviously, the day took a different path. The horror of what had been done chilled me to the bone. Literally. I just remember feeling cold. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and burrow under the quilt until the chill went away. I wasn't sure it ever would, and I mourned the fact that my child would soon be entering a world where people treated each other like this.
Seven years later, the chill is mostly gone, but a bit of it still lingers and causes a slight shiver from time to time. That's ok. We need to remember those feelings from that horrible day. It makes days like today even better, when after a crazy day at work and a mad dash across town filled with snarled traffic, the munchkins and I wrapped up the day enjoying the sights and sounds and candy of the high school's homecoming parade.
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