They Play.

September 11, 2011

Has it really been ten years?

I have spent this peaceful, warm fall morning sipping my coffee and watching television coverage of the ten year anniversary of 9/11.

My son played. And got into trouble. And ate his snacks. And had his diaper changed (twice). And fought his nap. And giggled. And made faces.

And I am so grateful for that.

We can peacefully reflect on things, and remember what happened and those who lost their lives (and keep their loved ones in our thoughts). My husband and I have been pretty choked up this morning, tearing up at certain things. Watching the coverage, seeing the memorials, reflecting in the moments of silence.

Yet our child is blissfully unaware. It is beautiful and sweet. His innocence. He is unaware of it all, just playing without a care, going about his morning like any other day. Poking the dogs. Clapping when he hears an applause on TV. Pulling all his books out. Climbing on everything. He babbled and shrieked through one of the moments of silence.

I hope he never has to feel the way we felt that day. That feeling in my gut when I heard the news while sitting in Econ class. Watching the second plane hit on the little TV mounted in the corner of our classroom. Watching the towers fall while in Precalculus, listening to the mixed emotions of other high school seniors. Fear, excitement, anxiety, anticipation. People making inappropriate jokes because they didn’t know how else to react. Didn’t know what they were feeling.

We wonder how we’ll explain this event to our children, how it changed our world. But, for now, we find comfort in their innocence, their sweet unawareness. It is a lovely contrast to our memories and what we feel. What we felt. Some day, they will know about it. Some day, God forbid, they may experience something similar and know how we felt. But, for now, they play.

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