This morning I woke up grumpy. Grumpy because I stayed up too late (writing in my journal then scrolling on Instagram) and because every day like clockwork I know that Persephone is going to want to go out between 6-6:30.
I was grumpy because I wasn’t ready to wake up, because I didn’t go to bed earlier like I know I should have. I know I’m cranky when I don’t get any sleep. Then I remembered what day it was and that hit my heart.
I was 7 years old on 9/11/01, I didn’t understand what was happening on the news when I walked into my parents room that morning, thinking it was odd that my dad was still home and putting on his tie.
I didn’t understand as we sang different songs about America during school.
I didn’t understand why my teacher had tears streaming down her face most of the day.
I didn’t understand because I was only 7, but I do understand a lot more now.
I understand that we live in a crazy world that has a lot of unknowns.
I understand that every day we’re just trying to do our best and follow God and do the right thing and make our lives the best they can be.
I understand that not everyone likes America, but I am grateful to live here.
Today I’ll remember those men and women who died today. I didn’t know them, but I’ll try to honor them. i’ll hug my loved ones a little tighter. I’ll talk about God a little more. I’ll make today the best day I’ve lived yet.
And I’ll remember.