Seven Years

Seven years ago today, I hadn't met my niece yet. I knew she was coming, but I didn't know when it would be. And then, some evil, evil men flew some planes into some buildings in NYC and DC, and my sister couldn't get in touch with her husband (who was in DC) or her brother (who watched the second plane hit a building half a block from him out a window) for a healthy chunk of time, and...she went into labor. And on September 12, 2001, her daughter was born. Her husband managed to race home from DC to Atlanta just in the nick of time.

Everyone has stories from that day. Luckily for me, mine has a happy ending. I ended up with an amazing little girl as a niece - a brilliant, beautiful little girl who is among the lights of my life. And MY brother, although he must've suffered incredible emotional trauma, came through just fine.

There was a time when I couldn't imagine not thinking of it constantly. Seven years is long enough that my memory isn't as sharp. But there are still reminders. There are still triggers that bring it back. I'll hear a woman on the red line with a British accent, and I'm right bak to that day, when the kindly, elderly British lady held my hand and listened to me babble about my big brother and how worried I was for him. I'll see that sort of crisp blue sky that you really only see in September, and I'll remember that on that day, the sky was the most brilliant, clear blue I ever remember seeing. And of course, seeing something filmed in New York before 2001 brings it home because inevitably, the towers will make an appearance at some point.

I read today that Americans have the lowest level of fear of terrorism that they've had since September 11th. And that brings MY fear right back. I think a little fear is probably healthy, all things considered. If it helps us to avoid another day like that, it's worth it.

But I'll continue to focus on the positive, like the little girl I love who turns seven tomorrow.