Has America Changed?
I know I have.
Maybe not in my day to day life, but I now know that even as the greatest country in the world, we are not safe. We are not invincible. There is not good in everyone. Life is short.
I remember as a little girl, seeing the mailman walk up our driveway, crying. And then my own mother, crying. JFK had been shot and killed. I remember watching the funeral on TV and little John, Jr. saluting, vividly. I was only 4 years old, the same age my son is now, and I remember this. But, I saw it. I couldn't understand the gravity of the situation, but I saw it - so I remember.
Now, again, and many years later, I can remember exactly where I was and what I was thinking and what I was feeling when I heard that the twin towers had been struck by terrorists. I went to work, but sat in front of the TV all day, watching over and over again.
Helpless. Sad. Angry.
My son wasn't even born yet. I've been wondering how to explain that day to him. At 4 years old he can't even begin to understand, but I want him to know. Because, if his generation doesn't keep that memory alive? God only knows what could happen next.
Maybe not in my day to day life, but I now know that even as the greatest country in the world, we are not safe. We are not invincible. There is not good in everyone. Life is short.
I remember as a little girl, seeing the mailman walk up our driveway, crying. And then my own mother, crying. JFK had been shot and killed. I remember watching the funeral on TV and little John, Jr. saluting, vividly. I was only 4 years old, the same age my son is now, and I remember this. But, I saw it. I couldn't understand the gravity of the situation, but I saw it - so I remember.
Now, again, and many years later, I can remember exactly where I was and what I was thinking and what I was feeling when I heard that the twin towers had been struck by terrorists. I went to work, but sat in front of the TV all day, watching over and over again.
Helpless. Sad. Angry.
My son wasn't even born yet. I've been wondering how to explain that day to him. At 4 years old he can't even begin to understand, but I want him to know. Because, if his generation doesn't keep that memory alive? God only knows what could happen next.
posted by Well-heeled mom @ 11:29 AM
1 Comments:
At 2:24 PM,
Anonymous said…
I was at my brothers' house. I'd started working part time and re-enrolled in school full time to earn my teacher's certificate. I'd taken their dog for a run, and was cooking scrambled eggs when they called for me to go in the den. I sat around in my sweaty smelly clothes all day watching the television. I drove home in the late afternoon and was offended by the beautiful blue sky and perfect weather. I cried most of the night.
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