Saturday was September 11, 2010 and of course, the first thing that comes to mind for almost anyone is the tragic events of the twin towers coming down in New York City as well as the planes crashing into the Pentagon in Washington D.C. and in Shanksville, PA. However, I believe that we each have our own personal stories of what 9-11 means to us. When my son called yesterday morning to say hi and catch up, we spoke of 9-11 and he reminded me that nine years ago on this day at approximately the same time the first tower came down, he was getting his driver's license. I reminded him that 28 years ago on this day his dad and I got married. A little later in the day my daughter called to say hi and she reminded me that last year on this day, her future father-in-law was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He was in a hospice home when she and her husband got married only two months after his diagnosis, and passed on only a few short weeks after.
I share these stories as a reminder that 9-11 can mean different things to different people. As I was reflecting upon the past 28 years, I was reminded of the amount of healing that has taken place in our family. Healing is not always an easy path, but if you are willing to embark on its journey, the rewards can be numerous. Sean and Angie have experienced much joy, pain, laughter and sadness during the past 24 and 25 years of their lives. Through the ups and downs of marriages, divorces, births, deaths, cancer, diabetes, addiction -- and the list could go on and on -- Bob and I have both loved our children unconditionally. No matter what was going on in our own personal lives, we chose to put Sean and Angie above all else and remind them always that we were their mom and dad and we loved them unconditionally.
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