It will be hard to miss all of the remembrance stuff today on TV, the interwebs, and, if they are still available where you live, newspapers. I know where I was and I'm sure you know exactly what you were thinking when you found out about the attacks.
But, I'm not here to talk about that.
I'm here to tell you about the two other reasons that this date holds some very sad memories for me.
10 years ago today, I lost my oldest daughter. I never got to hold her or see her face, but I feel that emptiness, nonetheless. I was in the hospital at 5 in the morning, bleeding. My son, Rodney, wasn't even walking yet. Thankfully, my parents' met me there, because my husband was at work.
I remember the doctors sending me to the ultrasound and the look on the tech's face as she told me there was no heartbeat. I remember feeling so brave and logical. It's okay. If this was a part of God's plan, then so be it. I would be okay. I could get pregnant again, right?
And then, when I was left alone in the examination room, it hit me. I had failed. I knew I had done something to harm that child within me. I instantly felt empty.
At least I had family to support me and love me through that pain. I spent that day with my parents; attending my nephew's birthday party at Chuck E Cheese later that same day.
It's that nephew that brings me to my second sadness today. That nephew turns 17 today, but due to a downright nasty divorce, I will probably have very little contact with him for the rest of my life. I may not be happy with him or his little sister right now, but the thought of missing out on their lives breaks my heart.
So, today, Life on Elk Meadows is full of melancholy.