Two of my sons are old enough to learn about the events of September 11. My oldest is in 3rd grade this year, my middle is in Kindergarten. I'm sure their teacher is talking about the significance of what happened today and the war that came about because of it. I would hope she is. We live on a marine base. You see, my kids won't just not know the world that I grew up in, but their world is forever changed by the events of that day. Let me explain.
My husband is in the Navy, but we are stationed with Marines at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina; The largest marine base on the east coast. Base living is having your own city at your disposal and then being able to go out into the "city" for the things you can't get on base (which isn't much). We have schools, we have a grocery store, we have gyms, an exchange (think target or walmart type store), gas stations, fast food restaurants, everything you can think of. We also have loss.
We have deployments. We have farewell ceremonies. We have funerals. My kids will never be sheltered from loss. We had to explain at a very early age about death and life. They will never live in a bubble thinking that their world will be exactly the same year in and year out. My kids will fear their dad will not come home. My kids will have soccer games, baseball games, school plays, birthdays, holidays, first days of school, last days of school, summers, winters and springs without their dad. So will my nephews who are the same ages. And so will the hundreds of kids they go to school with on a daily basis.
My husband is currently on deployment, but I am one of the lucky ones. He isn't in "the sand box", but my brother is. My nephews have had to deal with their daddy "fighting the bad guys" 5 times. Think of all of the things I said above, but 5, that's right FIVE times. Think of my sister-in-law, who is one of my personal heros having to say goodbye to her husband 5 times. I can't even fathom what goes through my nephews heads as they see their daddy put on his uniform and pack up his stuff. They are getting old enough to learn about these things and I know it will make it that much harder on them. My neighbor to my left leaves in a month. My neighbor to my right left a few weeks ago. My neighbor down the block left a month ago. Another neighbor down the block is coming back from his SECOND time in the 2 years I've known him. Yet another neighbor has LEFT for the second time in the almost 2 years I've known him. Another neighbor further down the block is leaving in a month. You see, for our family and those that live here with us, September 11 isn't just a day. It's a constant reminder that their work is not done. It is a constant reminder that someone must sacrifice. That someone is us.
September 11 is a reminder to us all, that while we hold memorial services for those lives that were lost that day, there have been many more lives that have been lost since then. There are memorial services being held every day in memory of someone else who lost their life in this constant battle. There are families all around us that will celebrate a homecoming and hug their service member with everything they have. There will be tears, there will be kisses, there will be hugs; for you see, they live in the moment. They don't know when the next call will be saying "pack your bag, you're leaving". There are also families around us that will hear the doorbell ring. They will find men in their dress uniforms, on official business, telling them that their loved one has been killed in action. There will be a chaplain that has the task of trying to comfort that family and help them try to make sense of a world that is now turned upside down. That chaplain is us. Those men are us. Those families are us.
When a husband or wife deploys, you try to find ways to occupy your time so you are not thinking about your family or your service member 24/7. You count the days down as best you can to when you will be able to see their face, feel their kiss, bask in their embrace. For you see...while you count down, you wait. You don't watch the news, you freeze when you hear the doorbell at an odd time. You wake up with a startle when your phone rings at midnight. You wait. You cope. You do what you can to survive.
My oldest and middle son had a "freedom walk" today at school. At first, I wondered just how many of the kids "got" it, including my own: What the walk was about, what the significance of today is. Then I realized, they don't just "get" it. They live it. My boys will hear the words "my dad is deployed" or "my mom is deployed" many times over today. They will hug their good friends, tell their friends they're sorry; they will ask their friends where their dads/moms are and when they are coming home. They will be curious as to whose parents do what jobs over there. They will talk.
They will talk to their classmates and friends in a way no other kid can, because no other kid understands unless they live here. They "get" it all too well.
So today my prayer is this. I pray that as a country we can once again go back to the days following 9/11. The unity this nation felt, the persistent urge to get things right with anyone you had ever wronged. The praying, the fasting, the crying out to God to have mercy on our nation. The constant watching of the TV to get any kind of news on what was happening. The days when you would turn on your TV and pray for a complete stranger because you saw pictures of loved ones holding posters and crying out to anyone who would listen and clinging to a hope that the loved one they were looking for was still alive. Praying for the first responders. The policemen, the firemen, the retired military, the active military, the doctors, the nurses, the plain old civilians that put their own fears aside and saved so many lives. Yes, we had loss that day. We have loss every day. As a nation, lets not mourn the past, but instead "remember" the past.
Remember that, for some of us, the "past" is still "today".
