Thursday, September 11, 2008

On that horrible, fateful day, early in the morning, I was loading up the car with all of my Mother's belongings. On that day, as we drove to the nursing home which was going to be her last and inevitable residence, we arrived safely.

Help was there by the staff, whisking away my Mother to get her settled into her new two-bed room. They helped me carry all her clothes and other articles of her worldly possessions that she was allowed to have there. Pictures of her family for on the wall, a photo album of her family, an assortment of knick-knacks of birds, owls, etc. for on the little night stand beside her single bed.

Once she was settled in, we made our way down to the solarium. While we were walking, slowly with her tri-pod cane, I realized some of the staff had grave looks of concern on their faces.

Once we reached the solarium, the television was on, and other staff members were staring at it in disbelief with tears on their cheeks. It showed a huge plane going into the side of a high tower. Katie Courig was solemn in her reporting, yet trying to piece together what was happening. There seemed to be a lot of chaos in the television studio, with reporters trying to piece together what was happening.

Mother hobbled over to the piano and sat down on the bench. She ran her gnarled fingers over the key board and started to play a song. I was glued to the television, not believing what I was seeing. She politely asked me to join her, oblivious of what was going on around her. I didn't tell her either. I wanted her moving transition to be a pleasant one.

While trying to settle my Mother into the nursing home that fateful morning, my emotions were running rampant, similar to a small stream that just had a deluge drenching of rain and was overflowing its banks. Not understanding what was going on with the visual scenes of the television, but also having to deal with putting my Mother in a nursing home for her final journey in life.

Afterwards, when I got home, I raced to the television, turned it on, and sat down in disbelief as to what was happening. Then there was a second plane, then a third plane at the Pentagon, then another in Pennsylvania. A day to remember, forever.

A day to be thankful and a day to pray for those lost, injured, and recovering from the horrific memories.

Becky