Remember.

I remember exactly where I was.

Seven years ago today I was living in Dallas, driving on my way to work when I heard the news on the radio. I can picture the Walgreen's drugstore, sitting on my right, at the exact moment the man on the radio cut in to tell us terrible news. I remember adrenaline rushing through my body, a bit of panic wondering whether our country was under attack, wondering if my loved ones in other states were safe, wondering if my city was safe, etc. I remember my boss telling me to run home and grab my little TV and bring it back to work so we could all watch the news coverage, and I remember watching that news coverage all day every day for at least the next week. And I remember simply being in a perpetual state of shock for quite a while, eyeballs glued to the news day and night, just like the rest of the country.

I remember growing up hearing my parents occasionally bring up the topic of JFK being shot and where they were when they heard the news, and I remember thinking it was so odd that they could pinpoint such a time and remember it so vividly. I never wanted to have a date like that for myself, but all of us who were alive on that fateful 9/11 will now have our own date to annually recall. Not that any of us ever wanted that. I pray that my son will not have his own tragic date to look back and remember where he was when it happened.

I didn't know anyone personally affected by the tragedy, I mean, anyone that lost a loved one directly, but I joined the millions of Americans in feeling like a small piece of my heart (not to mention sense of security) was ripped out that day.

My thoughts and prayers go out today to all of the victims of 9/11.