Living A Vintage Life: May We Never Forget

Even starting this post was hard. How and where do I begin. We all remember that terrible morning like it was yesterday. There is nothing I can add personally to the tragedy but I think its is important that we remember. Some of us will truly never forget.

Brian and I were up early that morning as we had a new baby. I remember seeing the first tower burning and for some reason Brian and I knew already that this wasn't some random accident. As we watched the plane attack the second tower, our worst fears were confirmed. We were under attack.

This is something our generation hadn't experienced before. We didn't grow up with the threat of nuclear bombs on Cuba, or practice duck and cover drills like my parents did.

We were safe on American soil.

I was physically ill. I can't imagine sending your spouse to work-a safe place- like you do every morning, not to have them return. Or dropping a loved one off at the airport only to find out that their plane was hijacked and flown into the Pentagon. Really, I can't imagine it.

It's surreal. It's unfathomable.

But it happened and we all watched in horror.

I think what I remember most is the fear that followed. Being scared to leave the house. Not knowing if there were going to be more attacks. Looking up in the sky and not seeing a plane anywhere. Huddling in our bed at 2am as military jets flew over our house, so loud we were worried it was a bomb. And the knowledge that our world had changed forever and our daughter would be growing up in a different time. One where extra security checks would be the norm, where the word "terrorism" was learned in elementary school.

My first trip to Ground Zero was in 2012, we took Davis back that summer. It is beautiful, but it's a solemn place. The enormity of the tragedy can be felt when you stand where the buildings once stood. We watched as the lowered the final beam on the rebuilt tower 4 and sang along with God Bless America during the ceremony.