Tuesday, September 6, 2011
This blog started as a way to document my pregnancy and continued to chronicle the special moments in our lives with our little bundle, but today I am going to write about something else.
It has been almost 10 years since September 11th, 2001. I can hardly accept that fact. So much has happened to me in the past ten years. I started college. I graduated college. I began working. I got engaged, married and pregnant. And now I have a beautiful 4 month old baby boy.
It kills me that my Aunt Lorraine can't be here to see all these things happen. I know how happy even ONE of those milestones would have made her, let alone all of them.
I was just feeding William and flipping thru the channels when I came across a 9/11 documentary on NatGeo. I usually don't stop to watch these things. I feel like my family is inundated with 9/11 as it is, that I dont need to add any more fuel to the fire. But for some reason I stopped to hear this one woman's account of escaping. She was one of the lucky ones. She said when she reached the 1st floor a police woman stopped her from exiting the building. And as they looked up, a second plane crashed into the other tower. It just sliced right threw. I have seen pictures of this too many times to count over the past 10 years. Who hasn't? But I dont know that I ever saw a video. I dont know if it was the angle, the sound or what, but it was just so terrifying to watch it literally slice right through an entire building. Windows, walls, desks, everything inside. Including people. The tears just started to fall uncontrollably, as I knew my aunt was trapped above the floors that the plan went through. I almost wish, if she couldnt have been below or out already of course, that she was on those floors. To be above, to know what happened, and to be trapped...I dont even know what she was feeling. I cant bear to think about it for longer than a few seconds before the tears start. The fear and heart ache I feel is probably miniscule to what she was going through. I wonder who or what she was thinking of. Her husband, Johnny. My grandmother, Joan. Her brothers and sisters. Her nieces and nephews. The baby she never did get to carry but always wanted. The life she would be leaving behind and the eternal life she would be going to. No doubt she was praying to her savior, Jesus, as she was a very devout Catholic. And I hope that she is with Him. I know that she is with Him. And that she is happy where she is. I know she wants us to know this. That she wants us to be happy, too. But I don't think that will ever be entirely possible.
But as I was sitting on the couch, with my beautiful baby in my lap, feeding him his bottle, tears cascading down my face and some splashing onto his....he reached up and touched my cheek with is tiny little hand. And in that moment I somehow knew Aunt Lorraine was with me. That she was been with my since that horrible, horrible day in September 2001. For all my big occasions, for whenever I have prayed to her or needed her guidance. And that she will always, always be with me in spirit, until the day I can be with her again, too.