I was only a toddler, asleep in my crib and utterly clueless to the events of that horrific morning.
My father had the morning off, and was still in his underwear when my mother called him. "Oh my god, turn on the television. We're under attack." That morning, as he watched the second tower fall, he was overwhelmed by shock, like much of the rest of the world. By the afternoon, he felt confused as to what had actually happened and frustrated at how little he knew. He felt hopeless and like he couldn't protect his family. By the evening, anger had taken place of all other feelings, and he had decided, along with three of his friends, that he would enlist and go kill whoever was responsible for this attack. At that time, he hadn't even known who that would be. Thankfully, those feelings slowly went away and he didn't enlist. My life would have been much different had he done that.
By the time I could really understand what had happened, years had pasted and we had basically gone to war. I remember being five or six and asking my mom if we were in the middle of a war. I remember asking who we were at war with, why were at war, how long the war had been going on. Most of her answers were vague, or at least they seemed that way. I don't think anyone really had the answers then. I don't think anyone really has the answers now.
Now I'm a teenager, looking back on a day that I don't remember. I'm confused, frustrated, without hope. Terrorism seems more frequent now, at least to me. Last Friday, there was an attack on Paris. My generation doesn't trust anyone. We live in a world of doubt and fear. Our futures look dark, and we don't know when another attack will take place.t
I remember feeling many of the things your dad did, and I remember my husband saying the same thing about enlisting. I, too, am relieved he didn't. It's a sad and crazy world but we can't let it get to us and keep us from seeing the beauty out there...I don't want my fear to keep me from traveling, but it definitely makes me leery.
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