09/11/2026
25 years ago, I was a new mom.
Logan was 9 months old, playing on the floor, and I had just turned on Regis and Kelly. The first plane had hit, and at first, like everyone else, I was just trying to understand what was happening.
Then the second plane hit.
I went and woke up my husband, who was sleeping after working third shift, and from that point on we barely took our eyes off the TV.
We somehow muddled through the day taking care of a baby who had absolutely no idea what was happening while we watched things unfold that we couldn't even comprehend.
I remember that day so clearly, but I also remember the days and weeks that followed. The flags everywhere. The sense of togetherness. People being a little kinder to each other. That feeling of being Americans together.
Years later, Logan, Dylan and I were able to visit the 9/11 Memorial in New York during Dylan’s senior year of high school. Standing there with my boys (one who had been a baby on September 11 and one who wasn't even born yet) was something I’ll never forget either.
It’s hard to believe 25 years have passed. In some ways it feels like a lifetime ago, and in others I can still picture that little baby playing on my floor while the world changed on the television behind him.
My boys know September 11 through our stories, through history books and through memorials. I know it through memory.
Today I’m remembering those who lost their lives, the families who were forever changed, the first responders, and a day our country will never forget.
Proud of this country. Grateful for it. And still remembering. 🇺🇸
9.11.01
