That Day

Two blogger buddies have asked what we were doing that day, and I thoroughly enjoyed getting to read about them, so I thought I would share...



That day, seven years ago, was the last time my parents saw my daughter. We were loading up my car to head back to Fort Worth where we lived. It was just me and Chloe. My mom called to us from the living room that the twin towers had just been struck by an airplane. I thought, surely not, she must have heard that wrong! So I slowly walked in there, thinking not a big deal, and looked over just as the second plane hit. It was horrific. My husband called and said they had been locked in their buildings on high alert (he worked very close to DFW airport). I was frantic to get home to him! My Dad tried to talk me out of it, saying that it was too dangerous to be there. But I didn't listen. I went. So I was driving home--Chloe in the front seat (unthinkable I know!!) because I wanted to see her precious face. Because she was with me while all those people were under buildings. We were safe. We were together. Little did I know, this was the start of the most awful week in my life...