America the Beautiful

[A flashbulb memory is a highly detailed, exceptionally vivid 'snapshot' of the moment and circumstances in which a piece of surprising and consequential (or emotionally arousing) news was heard.]

Tragedy struck the nation 11 years ago. I was 8 years old. 3rd grade. Ms. Brown's class. My best friend bought school lunch for the first time ever since being in elementary school that day- it was pizza day. She had just sat down to eat when someone from the office came to get her because her mom was there to pick her and her siblings up to go home. I was confused, but didn't think much of it. (It's interesting to look at the things that stick out in our memory.)  We went back to class. Every so often, another kid was called to the office because their parent was there to pick them up. I can't deny that I hoped my name, too, would be called to go home. At the end of the day, 11 of my class of 25 remained. We drew pictures the whole afternoon long. Talked with our teacher, the lovely Ms. Brown. I thought it was a great day. We didn't have to do real school work, for crying out loud! I had no idea what was really going on. What was going on around that classroom at Tolbert Elementary School in Leesburg, VA. I came home on a very empty bus. I walked home from the bus stop; noticed my dad's car in the driveway. Hold on. It was a weekday at 3 o'clock. He was never home before 6. Weird. I walked in the door. Mom? Hmm. I heard the T.V. on downstairs. I rounded the corner. The screen was filled with smoke. Mom was at the sewing machine. Dad was watching the news. I went numb as I learned that the twin towers  had fallen and the Pentagon had been attacked. I don't remember the rest of the day, to be honest. I think it was more than my 8-year old mind could wrap itself around. I am still trying to understand the impact of that day 11 years later.

What I do remember was the girl in my grade who didn't come to school for months. I made a card for her. Her father was on one of the flights. I think of her on this day. How her life was changed in a much more dramatic way than mine was. My feelings were changed. Her family was changed. Her life was changed. 

What I know is that while America was stripped down and hurt and wounded for so long, we have come together and built ourself back up. Our patriotism is strong. Even when our disagreements come up regarding this and that and which politician will get us out of debt, when it comes down to it, we all feel a sense of pride for America as a whole. I think that it's the American dream. Rising from your lowest point to become your best self. Rags to riches. Rock bottom to sky high. To be better tomorrow than you were today. Whatever that means for you. Whether it's to say kinder things to others (or yourself), to achieve everything on your to-do list, or even just to smile. That inspires me. I am grateful for those who responded to the flames and destruction to save lives, who resulted in losing their own. I know that had I been one of those people in the towers I would have been comforted knowing that those men and women were coming. Those people are saviors. I am grateful for those who put their heart and soul into keeping America safe; whether in an office in DC or on the front lines in a country far from home. And their families. For making sacrifices along with those men and women who protect our country. The land for the free and the brave.