I wish sitting in my freshman English class at Amherst County High School. My teacher was Ms Tracy. She was reading us a story from the book we were going to be discussing that day. It was a normal start to any other school day. Mr Rowe, my math teacher, came into the class and announced that a plane had hit Tower One of the WTC. About 10 minutes later class was dismissed for our next block.
Oddly enough I had Mr. Rowe. The principle came over the intercom & announced what had happened. Said that the school day was to continue as normal. Teachers were to keep teaching, students were to keep learning. Mr Rowe wrote a single math problem on the board. Turned on the radio. He told us to do that math problem & turn it in at the end of the class. That was all I did.
After that I had lunch. I don’t remember anything more to my day. I do remember when my mom got home from work she hugged me. Told me she loved me. We sat down to eat dinner & watch tv. I went to bed. Got up the next morning & continued with my life.
I don’t think I realized that day how important or monumental it all really was. Looking back I’m proud to say it happened during my lifetime & that I know & understand what it is.
But today I feel as if I should be remembering more. Doing something to honor those. I feel selfish in the fact that my day started by rolling over to see the man I care about. He had sleepies in his eyes. He leaned down & kissed me good morning. We got up. Got ready. He went to help a friend out. I came home & made breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast, & coffee. I laid down on the sofa & read my book. I finished my book & felt a little sad that it was over. I took a nap.
When I awoke, I got up & fixed some lunch. I chopped some chicken to make chicken salad. Toasted my bread & smeared a nice layer of freshly made chicken salad across it. I steamed some broccoli. I sat down & ate my lunch. My mom called, I talked to her for a few minutes. I texted the man I care about, we chatted for a few minutes. I took my dog out. He’s currently curled up at the foot of my sofa chewing his bone.
And then I start to feel selfish. I start to wonder how many people just though 9/11/01 was just another day. They took for granted waking up next to the one they care about, with sleepies still in his eyes as he leans down to kiss them good morning. I wonder if they rushed through their breakfast instead of enjoying it, or if they even ate breakfast at all. And then I feel sorry. Sorry for their families, for the friends & coworkers. Sorry that all of this had to happen. But grateful that I’m still here. And tomorrow morning I’ll get to wake up and fix my eggs & bacon, put on my clothes for work, and head out the front door.
Tomorrow will be another day. I’ll try not to take that one for granted either.