Time Capsule

When the Teenager was in utero and preparations were underway for her arrival, I was given a baby book at one of my showers.  Because she was my first child, and because I was completely enraptured with this tiny being I'd been entrusted with, I did my best to keep it up.  As most parents of two or more kids know, after the second one is born, good intentions often go unrealized.  As a result, the record stops being so detailed in this particular baby book starting in early 2003, and eventually I put both baby books up and moved on to other things. 

Some time ago, I took her baby book out of the cabinet it was stored in while looking for something else. I started thumbing through it, and realized that I'd created a mini time capsule.  I had saved several cards that her maternal grandmother, not yet affected by Alzheimer's, had sent.  Her signature, "Love, Grandma" was always written in her lovely, flowing penmanship. On the advice of a parenting magazine,  I'd sent away to the White House for a congratulatory note and had received, in return, a card signed by President Bill Clinton.  I made a note that during the 2000 Summer Olympic Games in Sydney, Australia (which I watched a lot of, since I was nursing an infant at that time) North and South Korea had marched in together during the opening ceremonies.

And then, in the back, a note that I'd written right after 9-11.  I don't even remember writing this; it was an exhausting and stressful time.  It's my handwriting, though, so I did write it.

Sept. 11, 2001: You were 13 months old- the worst tragedy on American soil, the bombing of the World Trade Center in NY and the Pentagon in D.C. I think often of the world you will know and I pray and hope it is a peaceful one.  That day the only thing different as far as you knew was that Daddy picked you up (from daycare) because Mommy was working late. But everything changed that day.  October 2001

It is hard to explain the impact of 9/11 to people who were not yet born, or who were so young that they don't remember it.  To me, it was the national version of thinking that catastrophe is something that happens to other people until it happens to you and then suddenly it's real in a way that it wasn't before.  I had work to do, so I mostly recall listening to talk radio shows speculate wildly on what had actually happened, what would happen next and when it would occur. 

For me, there was a "before 9/11" and an "after 9/11"- before 9/11, you could meet people at the boarding gate when they got off the plane, or just go and watch planes land and take off,  I remember telling my kids once (I'm not sure I was believed).   But during those weeks right after, somewhere in that fuzzy haze I realized that for my daughter there would really only be "after", and that she would only know of "before" in stories, books and photos. I remember being so worried and fearful over what "after" was going to be.

I still think often of the world my teenagers will know as they enter adulthood. Some of my thoughts are unsettling; these days, constant conflict and no resolution seems to be the road we are walking down.  However, I am still hoping and praying for the peaceful world I wished that my 13 month old might come to know, back in a very uncertain October of 2001.  We should never forget; let the work of peace be our remembrance.