I remember September 11, 2001. We found out about the first plane hitting the towers when the ex called his dad to ask if he could use his AAA to get his car towed. We watched,horrified, as the events transpired over the course of the next few days. I was glad that my kids were homeschooled at the time, because I knew that nothing bad would get to them as long as we were all together.
But as horrible as that day was, I remember something funny too. (Of course.)
Jill was supposed to start soccer that day. It was the first time she was playing. She was 10 years old, and had never played sports, but she wanted to try it out. She was a dabbler, trying tumbling for a few weeks, violin for about six months, and piano for two years -- from a teacher who, ironically enough, was in the airport in New York when the planes hit the towers. Her story of getting home was amazing. In either event, Jill was going to have her first soccer practice on September 11.
I called them and said "Jill's not going to be at practice today." The girl who answered the phone said "honey, NO ONE is gonna be here today." I said "no, you don't understand. She broke her toe at McDonald's yesterday, so she won't be there at all. The doctor said she can't play for at least six weeks." We shared a laugh over that, on a day when laughs were few and far between.