I was in English class. There was definitely a buzz in the room; everyone was talking about something, but I didn't know what it was. Then the teacher told us that two planes had been flown into the World Trade Center and another into the Pentagon. I couldn't even process what she was saying, it just seemed too crazy.
Many students got up and left the class to watch the news and learn more about what had happened. I wanted to do the same, but the teacher told us she would mark us absent if we did. Bitch. I wasn't exactly an A-student, and the main thing that kept my grades decent is that I rarely missed class, so I had to stay. (The time Liza and I got all the way on campus, right in front of our classroom and looked at each other and said, "Let's skip!" still makes me laugh. We jumped up and down and gave each other high-fives, it was funny. Ok, so you had to be there). I digress, once again.
Never could I have predicted that not only would our country go to war in result, or that eight years later it would still be going on, but that my brother would fight in that war.
Foster did two one-year duties in Iraq. The first time he went, I was OK. I think at that point I was oblivious to what was really going on. The second time he went though, I was a total mess. Pretty much every day I'd cry before work, once during work and then again at night. The thing that got me through was Foster's constant encouragement that everything was alright, even when I knew he was going through so much. As you can see from the picture, Foster is a jokester. He can make me laugh—like belly laugh, tears pouring from my eyes—at any moment. I have no doubt that his humor helped other soldiers on a day-to-day basis.
Let's take a moment today to think about and pray for the families who have soldiers overseas, and for the families who were not as lucky as mine, and lost a loved one in this war and on September 11, 2001.
What were you doing on September 11, 2001? Leave any comments or memories you have here!