I will start from the beginning.....
This afternoon in the living room, the boys thought it would be a good idea to take off their shirts and throw them up into the air. By the time they responded to my attempts to get them to stop, Jack's shirt had gotten stuck on the nonmoving ceiling fan. I figured I would get it later and went about my business for the afternoon.
That night after watching the season premiere of Survivor, we moved on to an episode of MasterChef that we had recorded earlier. During a commercial break, Glenn went outside to smoke, leaving me in charge of pausing the show when it came back on. As I sat and let the commercials play through, the cat caught my eye. She was batting something around on the floor, and I watched as she perched on a case of bottled water, and then in a very Jackie Chan-like manner, rolled smoothly off the case and onto the floor to take another swing at her prey. Now, I HATE bugs, and we have a rash of absolutely huge, disgusting roaches in our house lately because we live in Pensacola, FL. Lucky me, this is what she was batting around. I sat on the couch, terrified and trying not to hyperventilate, with my hands over my mouth and my toes curled up, glancing continuously at the back door to see when Glenn would be coming in. The cat stopped to stare at me as if I was the funniest thing she had ever seen. Glenn came in then, cleaned up the (hopefully) dead monster bug, and we resumed the show. At the next commercial break, Glenn got up to take the dog out and asked if I would put his sneakers away in the front closet. I picked up the shoes and headed towards the closet, flicking the numerous switches by the front door to find the right light. After putting away the shoes and closing the closet door, I turned around in time to see something ENORMOUS fly through the air and land in our large living room chair. I screamed and screamed and flew halfway up the stairs, away from the monster that had flown across our living room. I stood halfway up the steps where I could see the living room but was far enough away from the chair (I hoped), as Glenn ran in the back door, thinking from my screaming that someone was breaking into the house. When I told him it was "merely" a bug, he went back out to finish with the dog before coming in to take care of it. As I stood there on the steps scared out of my wits and looking over the living room, I became aware of 2 things: The living room fan was on, and there was a small shirt crumpled up on the floor in front of the living room chair. What I had seen flying through the air was no roach, it was a little, size 3T shirt that had been thrown off the fan as it reached max speed. As I stood there laughing harder than I have in a while, I wondered how mad Glenn would be over the fact that I had screamed bloody murder over a little red shirt. When he came back in, I still maintained that he look over the chair just to be sure, and sure enough, there was nothing there.
This will serve as a reminder to me in the future to remove all articles of clothing from ceiling fans, especially during bug season.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
September 11, 2001
There are basically 2 days in my life where the little details remain in my memory, and the emotions from that day can be experienced again with stark clarity. One is the day our precious Glenn III died, and the other is September 11, 2001. Both were days rife with fear, tragedy, and devastation in similar and in different ways.
For most people, the morning of September 11 was just another ordinary day. The people of Manhattan had no reason to think they would be doing anything other than going to work, clocking in, and carrying on with their day. Little did we all know.....
For Glenn and I, it was a morning of getting up early. We had been visiting his parents for that past week in New Jersey and were due that morning to take the 2-3 hour drive to Baltimore, MD, to catch our flight back to San Diego. Our flight from Baltimore would be connecting in New York first before heading to California. We got up that morning, said our goodbyes to Glenn's mom, and headed out with his father.
At the airport, we approached the lady at the ticketing desk to check our luggage. With tears in her eyes, she told us a plane had hit the World Trade Center. Like many other people I am sure, Glenn and I automatically thought that a small plane had hit the WTC in a tragic and unfortunate accident. We made our way through security and to our gate, where we began watching the news coverage of the events on the TV in the terminal. As we watched the events unfold, two things quickly became very clear: We would not be going anywhere and, more importantly, this was no accident. By now, a second plane had hit the twin towers, and we watched, horrified, as flight 77 hit the Pentagon. The airport was by now a flurry of activity, to say the least, filled with stranded travelers. People were rushing around and frantically talking on cell phones, sharing the horrible news of the attacks and making other travel arrangements. Glenn and I left the gate and were trying to get a hold of family members, with no luck. At this point, there were so many thoughts racing through my mind as we scurried around the airport in addition to the feeling of horrified shock of knowing that a large number of people had just been savagely murdered in an absolutely unimaginable way. I wanted to get out of there badly and felt scared and unsafe. Another thought that was racing through my mind was that I knew that it was an excellent possibility that my Marine was going to be mobilized. I knew as soon he saw the planes hit the towers, he was ready to go. He was ready to fight. We had only been married for months, and I knew I had to be ready.
We were still rushing around the Baltimore airport, trying to figure out how we would get out of there and get back to my in-laws house. We still could not get a hold of anybody. Then, out of the blue as we were making our way through huge crowds of shocked, frantic travelers at the baggage claim, my father-in-law rushed up to us. He had been on the 2-or-so-hour drive back to Jersey when he heard the news reports on the radio. He had stopped at a rest stop called the Maryland House to see for himself what was going on via the TVs at the rest stop. At that point, he got back in the car, turned around, and headed back to the airport to get us. Without us ever having gotten a hold of him, it was a miracle that he found us in the crowds at the airport. I will never forget the relief of seeing my father-in-law at that moment.
We got in the car and headed back to my in-laws house. We spent the rest of the day in a state of shock and despair, watching news coverage and discussing how and when we would get back home to San Diego. Glenn and I both called work to tell them we would not be there for a while and didn't know exactly when we would be back.
That night, we attended an impromptu prayer meeting at our church that had been called together that day. I distinctly remember the sense of fear, anger, and insecurity I carried around that day and for the days afterwards. Any sense of safety and security I had previously felt had been shattered. Would we ever be safe again? Where would we go from here?
About 5 days later, Glenn and I rented a car and started the 4-day trip back home to San Diego. Air travel, I believe, was still shut down, and at that point we didn't want to fly, anyway. It was a different time, and life as I had known it would never be the same. The American people had been attacked, almost 3,000 people were murdered, and how many more family members and loved ones affected by death. I knew we had not been directly involved in the attacks on our country, and we did not know anyone who had died as a result, but life was still different and would never be the same. Although, the coming together, strength, and resolve of the American people in the weeks and months after September 11, 2001, was uplifting and encouraging.
Nine years later, the shock of that day is still there when I watch footage of the attacks, as well as the devastation and anger. I don't think that will ever change. I don't need to watch footage to remember the blueness of that September sky, or the thick, black smoke drifting into the sky. I don't need footage to remember the images of the bright orange flames powered by jet fuel, of people jumping to their deaths from 78+ floors, of the incomprehensible, immense clouds of gray dust and debris overpowering the streets of Manhattan as the towers collapsed, or of the smoldering crater in a Pennsylvania field. I hope that we will always be shocked and angered at the evil that invaded our lives that day, and for the sake of the 2,977 Americans that violently perished that day, I hope that we will never, ever forget. It started as just an ordinary day......
For most people, the morning of September 11 was just another ordinary day. The people of Manhattan had no reason to think they would be doing anything other than going to work, clocking in, and carrying on with their day. Little did we all know.....
For Glenn and I, it was a morning of getting up early. We had been visiting his parents for that past week in New Jersey and were due that morning to take the 2-3 hour drive to Baltimore, MD, to catch our flight back to San Diego. Our flight from Baltimore would be connecting in New York first before heading to California. We got up that morning, said our goodbyes to Glenn's mom, and headed out with his father.
At the airport, we approached the lady at the ticketing desk to check our luggage. With tears in her eyes, she told us a plane had hit the World Trade Center. Like many other people I am sure, Glenn and I automatically thought that a small plane had hit the WTC in a tragic and unfortunate accident. We made our way through security and to our gate, where we began watching the news coverage of the events on the TV in the terminal. As we watched the events unfold, two things quickly became very clear: We would not be going anywhere and, more importantly, this was no accident. By now, a second plane had hit the twin towers, and we watched, horrified, as flight 77 hit the Pentagon. The airport was by now a flurry of activity, to say the least, filled with stranded travelers. People were rushing around and frantically talking on cell phones, sharing the horrible news of the attacks and making other travel arrangements. Glenn and I left the gate and were trying to get a hold of family members, with no luck. At this point, there were so many thoughts racing through my mind as we scurried around the airport in addition to the feeling of horrified shock of knowing that a large number of people had just been savagely murdered in an absolutely unimaginable way. I wanted to get out of there badly and felt scared and unsafe. Another thought that was racing through my mind was that I knew that it was an excellent possibility that my Marine was going to be mobilized. I knew as soon he saw the planes hit the towers, he was ready to go. He was ready to fight. We had only been married for months, and I knew I had to be ready.
We were still rushing around the Baltimore airport, trying to figure out how we would get out of there and get back to my in-laws house. We still could not get a hold of anybody. Then, out of the blue as we were making our way through huge crowds of shocked, frantic travelers at the baggage claim, my father-in-law rushed up to us. He had been on the 2-or-so-hour drive back to Jersey when he heard the news reports on the radio. He had stopped at a rest stop called the Maryland House to see for himself what was going on via the TVs at the rest stop. At that point, he got back in the car, turned around, and headed back to the airport to get us. Without us ever having gotten a hold of him, it was a miracle that he found us in the crowds at the airport. I will never forget the relief of seeing my father-in-law at that moment.
We got in the car and headed back to my in-laws house. We spent the rest of the day in a state of shock and despair, watching news coverage and discussing how and when we would get back home to San Diego. Glenn and I both called work to tell them we would not be there for a while and didn't know exactly when we would be back.
That night, we attended an impromptu prayer meeting at our church that had been called together that day. I distinctly remember the sense of fear, anger, and insecurity I carried around that day and for the days afterwards. Any sense of safety and security I had previously felt had been shattered. Would we ever be safe again? Where would we go from here?
About 5 days later, Glenn and I rented a car and started the 4-day trip back home to San Diego. Air travel, I believe, was still shut down, and at that point we didn't want to fly, anyway. It was a different time, and life as I had known it would never be the same. The American people had been attacked, almost 3,000 people were murdered, and how many more family members and loved ones affected by death. I knew we had not been directly involved in the attacks on our country, and we did not know anyone who had died as a result, but life was still different and would never be the same. Although, the coming together, strength, and resolve of the American people in the weeks and months after September 11, 2001, was uplifting and encouraging.
Nine years later, the shock of that day is still there when I watch footage of the attacks, as well as the devastation and anger. I don't think that will ever change. I don't need to watch footage to remember the blueness of that September sky, or the thick, black smoke drifting into the sky. I don't need footage to remember the images of the bright orange flames powered by jet fuel, of people jumping to their deaths from 78+ floors, of the incomprehensible, immense clouds of gray dust and debris overpowering the streets of Manhattan as the towers collapsed, or of the smoldering crater in a Pennsylvania field. I hope that we will always be shocked and angered at the evil that invaded our lives that day, and for the sake of the 2,977 Americans that violently perished that day, I hope that we will never, ever forget. It started as just an ordinary day......
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