I pledge Allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America. And to the Republic for which it stands. One Nation. Under God. Indivisible. With Liberty and Justice for All.

***

On Tuesday, September 11, 2001, at around 8:30 a.m., I took my three-year-old, Sam, to Mommy & Me. It was a wonderful resource to have as a young mom. Loudonville Community Church hosted it and volunteers would watch our kids while the moms would enjoy a snack with coffee or tea, fellowship together and then do a fun craft.

There was usually someone who would lead a discussion on different topics that assisted us as young moms and there would always be time devoted to prayer.

If I remember right, it was the second Tuesday of every month and I cherished it. It helped shape me as a mom and, in the process, I formed friendships with strong women of faith that I treasure and hold to this present day.

I remember on that particular Tuesday, we were at a different location because of construction at Loudonville Community Church. There were no cellphones back then, at least not like there are now. If you had one, you either were in the medical field or you had it for emergencies only. We certainly didn’t text back then.

We were in our own perfect little bubble that day, enjoying each other’s company while knowing our babies were safe in the next room playing and being attended to. All was right with the world.

We all departed around 11:30 a.m. after retrieving our children and saying our goodbyes. As I drove home, I remember playing one of Sam’s favorite cassette tapes in the car for the short ride. I usually didn’t put on the radio.

After putting Sam down for a nap, I turned on the TV. Immediately, horrific scenes appeared on the screen and I fell to my knees after realizing what I was looking at.

Every channel had the haunting images of the planes hitting the towers over and over again. It was so hard to see it but I could not stop watching. I remember switching channels constantly, desperate for as much information as I could get about what was happening.

There were terrifying video clips of the planes from below as they flew into the towers, devasting video capturing people jumping out of the windows as black billowing smoke poured out from the raging fires created by the planes exploding.

Every news correspondent offering different viewpoints from numerous officials on the timeline of what had happened, speculating what and who was behind it all.

Learning of the plane hitting the Pentagon and knowing this was no accident or air traffic control issue.

And the heart-stopping story of how the last plane set for Washington, D.C. was diverted by the heroic actions of crew and passengers and crashing in a field in Pennsylvania instead.

Our enemy now exposed and the evil work evident that they were trying to accomplish

Putting ourselves in that plane with those people… and knowing we would all do the exact same thing they did.

Feeling proud of those actions and the bravery shown to foil that part of the enemy’s plan.

A nation now gripped in fear and devastating loss, and the knowledge that life would never again be the same.

***

After we lose close loved ones or experience a tragedy that threatens our very existence, it feels like our world stops. But I remember after my dad died, I was struck by how other people just went about their day as if everything was okay. Somehow, I wanted them to realize what had happened and to be affected by it.

After Mike’s stroke, I felt the same way. I struggled to process anything else that was going on. It all seemed so unimportant and petty. Going to work or mundane tasks like shopping or cleaning just didn’t matter anymore.

***

When I think back to the days before 9/11/01 and then to the days that followed, there’s a different feeling attached to each period. Life was so carefree and safe before that day. I never really thought of enemies that wanted to do us harm, although I knew from history books and movies that, of course, we had enemies.

I distinctly remember on 9/12 feeling a sense of insecurity and uneasiness. Frankly, I was scared. The skies were eerily devoid of any aircraft. Even the roads were less crowded with vehicles.

Wherever I went in public those first few days and even weeks, I felt a quiet acknowledgment among other people of the sadness and loss that we all were experiencing.

There were nods of commiseration, purposeful half-smiles at each other. It was confirmation of our collective mourning. And I found some comfort in that.

People were kinder and softer in their interactions with each other. There was more patience and understanding amongst strangers. People were holding doors for each other or letting others ahead of them in line. No one was in a hurry to get anywhere in particular.

I remember when I’d go get coffee afterwards, there was a “pay it forward” happening almost every day in the drive-thru line for weeks. It was like we all just wanted to be there for each other, as if to say, “It’s all going to be okay. We will get through this.”

It was the worst day our nation had seen but it truly brought out the best in all of us. Because we weren’t just men or women, black or white, young or old, republican or democrat, rich or poor. We were Americans and we had each other’s backs.

United in grief and empowered in our faith.

Faith in God’s grace and protection.

Faith that good will prevail over evil.

It was a solidarity that harkened back to being in grade school and beginning each day standing with our classmates, our hands over our hearts, and looking at our flag reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. But now, those words and their meaning were clearer to me, more powerful and much more impactful than ever before.

One Nation. Under God. Indivisible.

***

Five months ago today, on April 11, Mike’s life as he knew it forever changed and, in the process, for the rest of us as well. There is a different feeling attached to the before and after.

For Mike, it’s more private and internalized. Everything within him feels different than before. Some of it is hard for him to describe. It’s as if a part of him has just turned off. In the car world, I imagine it would probably be like a bad battery. He’s just on a trickle charge right now. But he’s getting there.

Gone are the routine workdays Mike once reveled in where he gets out of bed in the morning, talks to his bird, gets himself ready for the day, makes his own breakfast and heads down to his shop to work on various trucks and cars.

Gone are the carefree weekends where we’d both do our own things, me at my house, cleaning, going for a run, working out in my gym and then Mike coming to pick me up in his car and heading up north to the cabin, or out to catch a movie or simply go to the store.

Now, careful planning and preparations are necessary before making any trip. I am doing much, if not all, of the work involved. Time management is key to ensuring that I can help get him out of bed, showered, and ready for the day while also being able to get myself ready.

There is loss, there is pain and there is frustration.

But out of this tragedy has sprung a resiliency like no other, a drive to reclaim freedom and independence. And there is an assured knowledge that he’s not alone.

It is said that when people go away to prison, their family also does the time with them. To some extent, we are all going through this recovery with Mike, shouldering his burdens as ours, finding comfort in our collective suffering and relying on prayers and the kindness of family, friends and strangers alike to have his back.

***

Mike and I now attend Loudonville Community Church (LCC). I had been attending a Catholic church much of my adult life but decided to return to LCC a year after COVID, another life-changing event in our world. My Mommy & Me friends still belong to that church and 24 years later, we still are close and go to dinner every month. They are also part of a bible study group that I joined.

Mike started attending with me a couple months ago after it was a little easier to have him out in public in the wheelchair. He feels very comfortable at my church and I am truly grateful for that. He has expressed an interest to become a member and he wants us to be married there next year.

***

Like most every American old enough to remember where they were and what they were doing that day, I will never forget 9/11.

I will never forget witnessing that kind of unspeakable evil that day.

I will never forget seeing the number grow from hundreds to nearly three thousand people murdered that day.

I will never forget how Ground Zero looked on TV, the destruction and horrific annihilation of the towers and our fellow citizens.

But most of all, I will never forget the pride I felt in being an American and seeing us come together as a nation to support and comfort one another.

***

Mike got to meet Christine, the nurse in the neuro ICU who took care of him the first couple of days after he had the stroke. She came to his birthday party with her little girl.

While he doesn’t remember her, he was happy to put a face to the memories that I talk about where she provided great care to him and support and comfort to me those first couple of days.

I will never forget Christine and the amazing nurses in the neuro ICU who made those first few days bearable and a lot less scary.

I will never forget how God kept showing up every day for Mike.

And I will never forget the feeling of how all of you, my friends and family, came together and had our backs.🙏❤️