9/11

September 11, 2009

A warm hello,

Today is a day full of pause, reflection, memories, sadness and hope. 

It is hard to believe that eight years have passed since that beautiful early fall morning.  The sky was crystal clear and the sun shined with brilliance.  We did not know what was to occur on that tragic day. 

We all remember where we were.  We remember the shock, fear and terror of that fateful day.  We glued ourselves to our televisions and prayed for survivors.  We tried calling those we loved to make sure they were alright. 

I was at the Philadelphia airport with my boarding pass in hand and just moments from boarding a plane.  It was then, on the airport’s television monitor, I saw the first plane crash into the tower.  There was a brief silence and confusion set in.  When the second plane hit the tower, there was the loudest collective gasp I had ever heard, and then total silence.  The silence was almost audible, and as I looked around I witnessed the disbelief apparent on every person’s face.  Then, reaction set in.  There was noise, people immediately placing phone calls or speaking to those next to them trying to find meaning in THE unimaginable moment.  Other people continued to be silent in their own disbelief. 

When the third plane crashed into the Pentagon, all flights were grounded.  I remember a woman who was very upset that she was going to be “inconvenienced” due to the cancelled flights.  I remember thinking, “how could she be behaving like that at a time like this?”  I’m not sure any of us at that point were thinking very clearly.

I quickly proceded to my car and began my drive back home (which at the time was about 1 1/2 hours from the airport).  My father called to make sure I was safe.  I felt very loved by him.  I tuned the radio to a New York station trying to get “on the ground” information as I drove in somewhat of a panic.  As I drove along the Pennsylvania turnpike heading west, I heard on the radio about the plane believed to be in my general area and considered to possibly be heading towards the White House.  I looked up in the sky as I drove (not a good idea while driving…again, not thinking clearly) trying to see if the plane was in sight.  All I wanted was to get home to my 6 1/2 month old son and hold him in my arms.  I pushed the pedal down further in hopes of having him in my arms one moment sooner.  I called my husband to tell him I was alright and not to worry.  Rory, my husband, said “I’m glad you are okay, but what would I be worrying about, and hey, aren’t you supposed to be on the plane by now”?  It seemed amazing to me at that moment, but he didn’t know what had happened.  I picked up my son from day care, met my husband and together we watched the news…held our breath…cried our tears…tried to breathe and take it all in. 

As I reflect back, in just a few short weeks we discovered Rory had stage 3 cancer. The months that followed were a nightmare for me and my family.  The loss of a loved one is always a tragic event.

So, today eight years later…it is a time to remember and never forget.  It is a time to also count our blessings and to each find our own unique way to make the world a better place.

Warmly,

Colleen

www.CoachingForWidows.com

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