Tuesday, September 11, 2007

the beginning of the end

My Mom called me at work. Her voice shakey and tearful, she began telling me, nearly hysterically, how two planes had crashed into a building in New York.

My first thought: Here she goes again. Mom was always getting overly excited about things. I figured it was a very small plane and she was just overreacting. Over the next few minutes the news had hit and we set up a small television in our office. We sat and watched in disbelief.

I remember that day differently than others. It was one of the last days I spoke to my Mom while she was still "normal."

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