I didn’t get any sleep last night. This cold I’ve convinced myself is going away seems to be hanging around and likes to make itself known between 9 pm and 1 am. Last night I slept on the couch so I wouldn’t keep Sean up with my coughing, and this morning I feel a bit beat upon.
Which is exactly how I felt seven years ago on 9/11/01. I’d been up all night with precious Rebecca who had yet another ear infection. I was up early to get us ready for one more trip to the pediatrician’s office to be given one more round of ineffective antibiotics so I could make one more trip to the pharmacy and start the merry-go-round again. The cycle seemed never-ending.
I don’t have the TV on in the mornings but I am a compulsive AM radio listener, so I had the radio tuned to my favorite news/talk station, WSB when I heard a report of a small plane flying into one of the World Trade Center towers. I couldn’t believe it, but I was in the midst of getting Michael out the door (carpool was late once again) and I was scurrying around making sure Amy and Rebecca were ready for us to leave around 9.
But Scott Slade came back on the radio and announced it appeared a commercial jet had flown into one of the buildings, not a private plane as he’d just reported. With that, I turned on the TV and saw Diane Sawyer reporting the same thing with b-roll to back her up. I couldn’t believe it, but I didn’t have time to process the information because we were late for our doctor’s appointment.
When I got to the doctor’s office no one was talking. The TV’s were tuned to the Today Show and a palpable sense of unease permeated the room. We were called back, Dr. Cox confirmed Rebecca’s ear infection, gave us another round of antibiotics, assured me she didn’t need tubes, that she’d be better by her third birthday and we were on our way, back into a world that was far different than the one we’d left.
By the time we got home the first building was collapsing. When Michael walked through the door at 12:30, both buildings had fallen. Life was not going to be the same again.
Rebecca’s ears did heal by her third birthday, just as Dr. Cox promised.
I've been remembering driving home from dropping off Sam at preschool - thinking, "Should I turn around and go get him and race to the elem. to get Ben?" I remember,too, being thankful for the comfort of the cow pastures along the road... Maybe I was in the middle of nowhere enough to be "safe".
ReplyDeleteI was at work and got called into the conference room where the TVs were on. My new husband (only 4 months married) was *on a plane* and I was never so happy to hear his voice in my life. The office happened to be in a high-rise in Buckhead and they sent us all home; while I was glad for the ability to try to process what happened, it was stifling to be home by myself with those images playing over and over.
ReplyDelete/tina