What Was I Doing?

I was putting one chocolate fudge pop-tart in the right side of my toaster. It sat right beneath the radio. Josie was walking around the kitchen table doing three year old things. My mother called right when she saw it on TV. When I turned on my own TV, I remember thinking a helicopter had crashed into that building. I had no clue of the enormity of the World Trade Center. Certainly it wasn't a passenger plane. Well, I had to get off the phone at some point and get Jake fed too. He still needed help with that. He had just turned two six days before the whole world changed.

I wasn't watching TV when the second tower hit, although I'm sure I was trying to get back to it. My mom called me again to let me know. Then I thought "Oh my God, my kids are going to see WWIII." I never expected one of them to fall. I was on the phone with my closest friend when that happened. Then I really didn't think the second one would fall. And it did that while I was watching alone. Somewhere in there the Pentagon was hit, and I called Ray.

Josie wanted to watch Blue's Clues of course. I remember thinking "Blue's Clues" couldn't be on right now, or if it was there would be some sort of ticker on the bottom of the screen with updates.

I remember that day very well. Shock is like a camera flash for me. Things stand still and imprint on your brain.

I've changed a lot since that day. I know a lot more about Islam than I ever thought I would care to know. I also operate on the belief that terrible things will happen rather than won't, and more often than not these things can be traced to radical Islam. It's not paranoia, it's just common sense and hindsight. September 11th prepared me for what happened in Beslan in 2003. I admit I'm still digesting what's happening in Darfur. The misery is so big you have to travel to outer space to see it all, and once you get out there you can't see the individual people anymore. It's hard to connect. Am I making sense?

I also know when the media is avoiding the issue and I make it a point to be informed. Like in the case of the college student who blew himself up in Oklahoma. I wasn't surprised that it happened. I'm not surprised that many have forgotten that it happened, and I'm certainly not surprised that he is still not considered a suicide bomber. Just a suicide. That's the media.

I've stopped waking my husband up every time I read something showcasing the rampant idiocy, apathy, and hypocrisy that swarms around us. It's not news to me anymore.

I do have a deeper love for regular people than I ever did before. Some of that comes from what I saw in the days following the terrorist attacks, some of it is just the way I'm wired. Regular people don't seek martyrdom, or burn effigies of American presidents, or insult victims of terrorism. They don't carry offensive signs at the funerals of fallen soldiers, or spew filth at people with whom they disagree. Sometimes if I spend too long on the internet, I start believing that regular people are very rare. That's when I call my friends and laugh and get my priorities straight. All the pain in the world that I see just makes me hug my children tighter, and appreciate my family more. I know that's really all I can do. Be that regular person that helps keep it all together, when forces around us are trying to get us unglued.