Mary Grace learned something today. One of the books they read at school was an alphabet book, and there were two towers in a picture of New York. I guess one of the other students must have pointed it out. MG said that Mrs. W had never noticed that there were two towers in that picture before. Mary Grace knew that something bad had happened in New York in 2001, and that it was before she was born. She was too anxious to go outside and play to tell me any more about what was said at school.
We haven't talked to our kids about 9/11 because they're little. It doesn't affect them. To them it'll be like our parents talking to us about where they were when Kennedy was shot - Kennedy's assassination was a linchpin moment in our parents' lives, but to us it was history. 9/11 was a linchpin for us (as was the Challenger disaster, Reagan being shot, the Berlin Wall coming down...) but it is part of history for them. It's not relevant in our daily Midwestern lives, and it has never come up before today.
I feel like she's more worldly now - as though learning about the things that happened 11 years ago today is another step along a long path from the pure innocence of infancy to mature adulthood.
30 years ago today my grandfather died. I was in first grade, too. I guess September 11 is a day for leaving behind innocence, in our family. It's a day that we take a step forward toward adulthood.
Why is it that so many of those steps hurt?