I was staying at my parent's house to help out after Mom's stroke and dead asleep on the couch when the phone rang.
"Mom... Mom! Turn on the TV. We're at war! We're being attacked!"
It took me a moment to realize my daughter was serious. I signaled to my father to turn on the TV and we watched in horror while mom slept in the bedroom. I told Dad to give her a tranquilizer in her morning pills, so she slept through the worst of it. Dad and I on the other hand sat there glued to the set watching the repeats of the airplanes hitting the World Trade Center. Neither of us said a word.
Worrying about Mom, prevented me to feel anything but numb and disbelieving until I got home a week later to discover that my dear friend's daughter, who worked in the WTC was on the phone with her when it happened.
She explained it to me all so matter of fact. We were talking one minute, and the next there was silence. She has a three year old little boy. My son-in-law's gonna miss her. Did I tell you my daughter was the one who bought me my computer and paid for my lessons? So, how was your visit at your mother's? I hope she's recovering well.
I had all I could do to hold myself together for her sake, but cried all the way home because, only then, did it hit me. This was real, not a movie, not a foggy dream. It happened. And there's no going back. No way to patch it up, fix things, or make it right again.
