Something to lose….

It’s Sunday morning.  September 11th.  Will and I were up last night – one of us barfing, one of us cleaning it up.  You can guess which.

Now, it’s the morning.  One of us is in the playroom watching Dora and one of us is on the couch, in a puddle of tears, eyes glued to my television set, watching the 9/11 service.

I’ve been a bit obsessed with the anniversary of 9/11 and I really wasn’t sure why.  I’ve been reading all the personal stories of families who lost loved ones and my heart brakes more each time.  I was texting with my friend Brad a minute ago about it and I think it hit me as to why.

Ten years ago, I had recently lost my mother to cancer and the week before I had called off my wedding.  Selfishly, I was very focussed on myself – and while I was affected by 9/11, it just didn’t seem to have the meaning it has now.

I had no fear of dying.  It’s not that I didn’t have anything to live for (hello incredible family and friends) but with no partner, no dependants…and the idea that just maybe I could be with my mom again somehow, it just didn’t scare me.

Fast forward ten years.  Every story I read of a young child being left without a parent breaks my heart.  Whether it was at the World Trade Centre or in a traffic accident around the corner – I put Will in the place of those motherless and fatherless children and I cry.

Today, I’m hugging Will even more than I usually do which is a crap load on a regular day.  (Oh and I’m not losing it for the splay of vomit all over my couch…:).  I’m going to enjoy every second with him because you just never know. 

Last night, Will asked me if we could go on a safari someday – I hope so buddy.  I truly hope so.