Today on September 11th, memories rush back. Walking to my first of the day college class, going by the TV in the MUB noticed folks glued to the screen.  Was in a hurry to be on time. I did notice there were planes on the TV and heard something about crashing, but didn't fully comprehend what had happened.  Walked into my 1st class and the very strict no nonsense nun who was teaching had tears in her eyes as she told us what she knew. Then we had another professor pop their head in the classroom. "There's been another hit."  The whole department piled into a center classroom where the TV on a moving cart was located and we stared in horror.  Classes were cancelled for the day.  I walked back to my dorm shaking. I changed out of my green 3/4 length sweater, tan pants, tan doc martin sandals into comfy clothes.  We turned on the tiny little TV and were paralyzed watching.  Know where my husband was? (I didn't know him at the time.)   He was ON a plane in BOSTON waiting to take off to visit his Aunt in Tampa, FL. He was wondering what was taking so darn long. They eventually deboarded and he was a lucky one. He got to go home.

It's 2019 and I certainly haven't forgotten the horrific feeling of that day. As I stood here on the beach in Ogunquit with just my 2 year old (big kids at their drama club), an impromptu dip, watching her do her favorite thing on the beach (collect seaweed...eww), I became incredibly thankful that day to day I don't feel petrified to go anywhere, as I did after that horrific day.  I'm thankful for the freedom I have because others have sacrificed everything.  Thankful to live in the land of the free and the home of the brave.  Thankful to be an American.


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