Today. Today is the 10th anniversary of 9/11. I don't feel the need to explain it, I think that we all know what today is, and why is is such a heavy day. I've been avoiding a blog post because I don't really know what to say, other than my  heart is tight today, thinking about all of the people that lost someone they love. Thinking about how scary it must have been for the people in the towers that day. Thinking about the selfless people who worked rescue. Thinking about the children who have grown up not knowing a parent.

Mainly, I don't know what to say because I have been blessed in my life to not have known the loss, pain, and hurt of someone I love being taken away. Not just taken away, but stolen. I can't pretend to even imagine what that would be like.

But I also feel like I can't be silent on a day like today when we as a country have so much to remember.

I listen to NPR most mornings on my way to work, and they did a story interviewing some people who lost loved ones in 9/11. I caught just a bit of a fathers story about his son. I tried to find the story to link to hear the whole thing, but couldn't. But from what I gather, his son was in the second tower, and had called his dad when the first one was hit to tell him what was going on. The father goes on to say "the last words I said to my son were 'be careful, son, and I love you.' I love you weren't the last words that a lot of people got to say to their loved ones."

That fathers voice keeps playing over and over in my head. And I challenge myself, out of respect for all of those who were wounded physically or emotionally that day, to remember what a gift it is that I can tell my father, my mother, my sisters, my family, and my husband that I love them.

This photo is by Justin Lane / Pool via AP, via

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