Here we are, September 10. Today, 18 years ago, my ex-wife and I found out that we were going to be parents. We were on a high. The emotions were grand. The world our oyster, now, right?
We told our parents. We relished in the news. This is what we should have been looking forward to. We were going to raise this kid in a world full of hope and promise. And then…
That Tuesday came. Early morning, September 11, 2001. I had just gotten out of the shower and walked into the bedroom where the news was reporting that a (small) plane had hit one of the “Twin Towers” of the World Trade Center. Hmmm, I said. And prepared to go on about my business. I turned the television on in the living room and as I was watching the Today show, a second plane hit the other tower and we all knew at that moment, this was no accident and the world was to never be the same. We knew it the whole time. We felt it. We lived it. We didn’t have to live in New York, or Washington or Shanksville, PA to have our collective teeth kicked down our throats.
This high that we were riding was a sudden crash. We were gonna rule the world and suddenly, why would we ever bring a child into this world? Well, we did, thankfully. 3B was born in May and our lives have never been the same. His mother and I have been separated most of his life, but we’ve remained friends and we make decisions about him together. The BCPF has been with him for most of his life, too. She’s probably more strict on him than anyone.
So, even though the world fell apart the next day, and even though we thought it was a tragic world we’d expose him to, we did and he’s a wonderful young man today. He works hard and sometimes does his school work. But, he’s a respectful dude and he’s a protector of those he loves and cares for. I guess I couldn’t ask for more.
Until tomorrow, same blog channel…
“He who fears he will suffer already suffers because he fears.” — Michel De Montaigne