September 11, 2001 is one of those days in history where people who were adults (or even older children) remember where they were (route 340) and what they were doing (driving to work) when they heard of the attacks. They likely remember what they were doing before (hanging up laundry on my clothesline and thinking what a perfectly beautiful day it was), and in the days after (On standby at the firehouse). Accounts of witnesses and survivors are chilling, horrifying, often inspiring. When the absolute worst of humanity shows itself, the absolute best rises above and to the top every.single.time. Heros, both those for whom it is a job, a calling, and regular folks step in and step up and we remember them and their actions with gratitude.
September 11, 2009 in the wee hours of the morning was the definition of bittersweet ... Only with pain and anguish combined with the sweetness and excitement of a first born baby when my friend gave birth very, very early to her precious, and still, baby girl, then went home empty handed.
Later that morning in the same hospital, I checked in preparing to give birth to my third born son, when my nurse comes in to turn down the volume on my fetal monitor. The mom in the next room just had a loss and could hear my baby's strong heartbeat where hers was gone.
A couple more hours pass and my sweet boy is born. September 11th will forever more be a day that I am overwhelmed with gratitude for God's goodness.