Hope.
Pride.
I don't think my babies will ever understand the fear and anxiety that came from that day, September 11th, 2001 when they were only 6 months old. I sobbed that day thinking I had just brought these beautiful baby girls into what was a war zone. I feared the world they would grow up in would be so drastically uncertain, unkind, and evil.
But instead, on September 12th, there was hope. There was a fighting spirit that we would overcome. We would work together. We would honor. Work hard. And never forget.
When I went to bed last night, I was so drained. I'm sure all of us were feeling that way. We went to church, we talked about forgiveness, we tried to talk to our 10 year old twins about what happened that day. I wore my old police badge on the inside of my jacket yesterday next to my heart. My heart just ached. Because our world changed so much that day.
When I woke up today, I wanted to honor this life that God has given me.
The RENEWAL that is born each and everyday we awake to a perfect new day.
The HOPE that is before each of us to live up to our potential and honor the gifts that God has given us in our faith, family and friends.
The PRIDE that I feel in my heart, because I live in the United States of America. I am proud to be an American where I am free and incredibly blessed in this life I've been given.
September 12th. Today is going to be a great day.