I remember exactly where I was when the Twin Towers fell.
I was driving on the highway to work, and turned on the news to hear that no flights were leaving airports. That air travel in North America had all been shut down. I was confused. And then the announcement happened that the Twin Towers in New York had fallen.
I pulled over. In utter shock and disbelief. In confusion. With a pounding heart, I remember dialing Husband’s Grandma to ask her what in the hell was going on.
That was the day that everything changed for my generation and my children’s generation.
You see, in our parents and grandparents time, their friends and husbands and sons and daughters had already fought for our freedom. In World War I. In World War II. In all the wars that were fought to ensure we live free and safe.
And in that moment, I remember thinking how we had taken all of that for granted. I remembered that families made sacrifices, men sacrificed their lives, and children never got to know their fathers so that you and I had the opportunity to live without fear. In peace. In freedom. We forgot to be thankful.
But in that moment, I remembered. And I hoped that there was someone who would protect us again.
I used to think that Remembrance Day was for a bunch of veterans that died a long time ago. I used to think it wasn’t relevant to me, but now I am so ashamed that I didn’t get it. It is as relevant today as it ever was. The world is a shitty place sometimes, and there are a lot of soldiers out there trying to make it less shitty. There are a lot of soldiers not just dying in the warzones so that this country remains standing and free. There are soldiers dying on home soil, as we saw in the Ottawa shootings. And there are even more who suffer long past since they are home from the things they had to see and do while in active duty.
So today, I’ll remember to be thankful to live where I am. To have someone who loves their country so fucking much they would be willing to die for it. For me.