I will always remember.....

This is a picture of my oldest, Tjoe's class trip to a tour on the USS John C. Stennis and here they are on the deck. This is how I will commemorate this day, like another day that "will live in infamy", with this picture and these thoughts. Do you remember where you were when that first plane hit the first tower? Do you remember what you were doing? I will never forget that day.

It was a beautiful sunny day in Groton, CT. Teancum, my husband, just left for a scheduled underway aboard the USS Toledo earlier that morning. I had left Marin and Tjoe in the loving hands of one of my best friends, Yaya while I attended classes at a local community college. The first hour passed uneventfully until our first class break. A fellow student who had just been in the cafeteria walked briskly in the classroom telling us that New York City was under attacked according to the cafeteria workers. I thought he was joking, and he assured us that it was not a joke; that the cafeteria workers had the television or radio on in their work area. I started to panic a little and wanted to get home. Into my second class of the morning, the officials at the school decided to cancel classes for the rest of the day. I called Yaya to come get me. When she came, I immediately turned on the radio. The terrible news that was relayed earlier was confirmed through reports by the deejays. I was amazed and shocked. As I drove home on that sunny day, I thought of the irony of it all. How could it be so beautiful and calming outside here in CT just a 100 miles away from NYC where chaos was ensuing and changing lives forever? As we got back to my house, I immediately turned on the TV to the news. Another friend came over with her young ones. As we watched the atrocities happening on TV, we cried and I was praying with gratitude that Teancum was not in port and for once, I was grateful for NOT knowing where he was. In the days ensuing, I cried for such injustice and the loss of so many lives. I cried for those children that would grow up without their loved ones. I found comfort in a surprising place. I turned to my father. Growing up, our relationship dwindled with lack of faith in one another. And although I idolized and feared him, it wasn't until I was married and with children of my own, did we try to rebuild that precious relationship between father and daughter. He knew what going to war meant. He was an ex-POW of the Japanese in World War II. He was part of the greatest generation. His words over the phone comforted me as he bolstered my breaking heart. He encouraged me to be strong, especially for my children. A special broadcast from our then President and Prophet of our Church, Gordon B. Hinkley, helped my soul too. I will never forget that day. I will never forget what I was doing. We are currently at war NOT because of oil or profit, but for those lives that were lost that day eight years ago. I will never forget the sacrifice individuals and even their families gave for others, like those who have served in wars past, their selflessness will always be honored in my heart and in the hearst of my children for I shall never forget.