Where were you when...?

Where were you when...? I never thought I'd have one of these. Let me rephrase...I never wanted to have one of these. Growing up I would hear snippets from older family members "Pearl Harbor Day...shocked...JFK killed...crying..." These were shared experiences of an older generation that I wasn't a part of--a club I didn't belong to. And, now I do have a "Where were you when..." Let me rephrase...WE have a "Where were you when...?" We have our own club--a club we wish we didn't belong to.

The numbers 9-1-1 have so much meaning within them. They speak volumes about culture, history, hatred, fear, freedom, pain, division and unity, and humanity. Ask someone "Where were you when...?" or just say those numbers "9/11" and you open the floodgates of memories.

Why do we ask? Why do we feel the need to talk about it? About 6 months post 9/11 I was having lunch with a high school friend I hadn't seen in over 10 years. Within 15 minutes she asked, "Where were you when...?" So great was the need to discuss it we couldn't contain ourselves. We talked about 9/11 for an hour. This was our shared experience. This was healing. We needed to discuss it, to keep it real and alive--something so profound and unbelievable we couldn't not talk about it because we were still convincing ourselves it really happened. And, this scenario played out all across the world, the country--strangers, members of the same club compelled to share.

Our lives, our country, our world--everything we'd known changed that day. People looked at each other differently; for the better and for the worse. People thought about life differently. At eight months of pregnancy I became a magnet for love and emotion..."That life in there is so precious [strange hands on my belly]" and also disdain and fear..."How can you bring a life into this world knowing how horrible it is?" Exactly a month later I labored with my daughter while we watched 9/11 tributes on TV. I admit watching these same visions over and over again made me think...why did we bother with life that could be taken so quickly under such abhorrent circumstances? I couldn't help but think of the the lives lost...children, parents, siblings, friends...why bother, indeed?

You may be saying this type of things happens all over the world on a regular basis and you would be right. This is no less horrific and we should all be aware of the terror of the world and appreciate the freedoms and safety we have. But, 9/11 is our experience. This happened here. our lives were changed. Our histories written and our tied together by three little numbers that mean so much.

So, on this day of remembrance...ask a parent, ask a friend, ask a brother, ask the store cashier, "Where were you when...?" Share in this memory. Relive it. And, most importantly, don't ever forget. For those three numbers belong to all of us.