Remembering the Day.

...it was on one tuesday morning, my brother and i were upstairs doing our homework like we always did every tuesday. mum was downstairs hosting the women's weekly bible study and every once in awhile, there would be an eruption of laughter (the hyena laugh, we'd call it), but other than that it was a quiet morning. however, sometime around ten, the phone rang, and since mum was busy, i picked up and answered. it took me awhile to figure out the caller. she was a lady from our church that had seldom called, so i found it strange why she was...but what i found even stranger was what and who she was asking about. she spoke in a hushed tone and after i assured her everything was alright she hung up. after that, the phone wouldn't stop ringing off the hook. people just kept get calling and calling, so i kept picking up phone call after phone call. and people kept asking me the same thing...

"is your dad okay?"

     i was too young. i didn't understand what was going on. all i knew was something was dreadfully wrong. they kept mentioning two big buildings collapsing. we phoned dad again again and again that day but all to no avail. all calls went through to the answering machine, and we left countless, frantic messages, asking him to call us back...

...dad came home late that day...i remember so clearly, so scared out of my mind that something had happened to him. it was a long day, but i had never been so happy to see my daddy come through that front door that tuesday night.

ten years have passed, but i'm still remembering the day. 9-11-01.