United 93

Since Mike is scheduled to work all day tomorrow, we took our only chance (he was supposed to be off at 4 today, and instead didn't leave til nearly 5) to go out. My parents offered to look after the kids, so we headed to the movie theater.

We saw United 93. It was pretty similar to the television version that aired a few months back. Still pretty riveting and emotional.

Towards the end, I cried a bit; my heart bursting with pride for those passengers that knew their lives were on the line and unselfishly did what they needed to do to keep that plane from hitting it's destination. I squeezed Mike's hand while we watched. And I thought to myself .... nearly 5 years later, and it's still so fresh in my mind.

Which makes me think of those directly affected; those that were inside the World Trade Center, but managed to evacuate in time, those in the Pentagon that weren't in the section that was hit, the firefighters, the police officers, the family, friends and coworkers of those who perished. How are they doing? Do pictures and movies and memories still bring tears so easily?

I am lucky that I did not directly know anyone that lost their life that day. I was thousands of miles from where the destruction took place. I had family (aunt (dad's sister) & uncle) working in New York City, and since phone lines were down/tied up, I resorted to the only email address I had on hand - my uncle's. I waited to hear back; wondering if a member of my family had been at the WTC for business, or perhaps just to shop.

I remember when I got an email back - they were all safe. I called my mom immediately, and managed to get out "they're okay" before sobbing. I cried many, many times the day of 9/11. And many times in the days following. And many, many more times in the years since. Even the 4th of July tends to bring things back to my mind, and the tears spring up. Songs like "God Bless the USA" have an even stronger meaning now.

So tonight, as we filed out of the theater, I noted that everyone was quiet and their faces somber. Perhaps I'm not the only one that still cries.