9 Years Ago...

I wasn't a wife. I wasn't a mother. I was 14 years old, and my biggest problem was my boy-friend not calling me. Then, my mom burst into my room early one morning and woke me up. She rushed me into the living room and told me to look at the tv. At this point, the reporters still thought that the first plane had accidentally crashed into the first tower. I watched as the second plane hit. The reporters immediately started talking about how this must be a terrorist attack. I couldn't process what I was seeing. The city that I had always dreamed of going to was being attacked, in the most brutal way. Our country was being attacked. The images of the people falling from the buildings still makes me cry.

After about 30 minutes of watching, I went back to sleep. I had the most awful dream. When I woke up, I got dressed in a pair of camo pants and a black shirt. I wore my hair in braided pigtails that day. By the end of the day, the gas stations in my town had cars overflowing from the parking lots. They were running out of gas. Everyone was convinced (and terrified) that the gas prices would spike to an all time high the next day. They were wrong. Later that night, I was on the computer, chatting with friends about how scared I was about the war that was bound to start.

When I was young, I never grasped how this ONE day would change the course of my life. If "9/11" never happened, I probably wouldn't have ended up marrying a service member. I would have countless friends in the military. I wouldn't cry on the same day every year. Who knows how many things would be different. But, 9/11 did happen. I did marry a service member. I do have countless friends in the military. And I do cry on the same day every year.