We'd just finished breakfast and we were getting ready for our day, when the news reporters urgent voices came breaking in. Mama sat on the couch, eyes on the television, a hand covering her mouth. I can vividly recall watching one of the towers collapsing and my mother starting to cry. Then the people began to jump and I was simply to small to comprehend what was going on and so I looked at Mama as figures went free falling through the air and I asked her something.
"Are those birdies Mommy?"
She stiffened, seeming to just comprehend that I was there watching the nightmarish images. "Yes sweetie." she whispered, quietly turning off our TV. "Those are birdies on their way to heaven."
Now it's thirteen years later, and I'm sitting in my room scrolling through all the Facebook posts of people crying "Remember!" just as we've done every year since 9/11/2001. And as I look at the images of a day I can barely remember, I realize something.
This was one of the rare days America showed their true, brave, patriotic colors. It was on that day we rallied and worked together, our hearts breaking as one. Our firemen, our policemen, and our soldiers were all fighting and we the people were offering up more prayers then I dare say we've prayed before. We didn't let it take us down. We stood up and fought. We wept for those we did not know, and we cried out to God for comfort.
And as terrible as that day was, with all the death and all the heartbreak, it was a day to remember.