Someday...I'm going to ______.

Roses left for someone's Mama at the 9/11
North Tower Eternity pool.

 We say it all the time...at least I do. "That's going on my bucket list", or "That's on my bucket list."  Lip service? Time is the judge of that.  Do we mean it?  I do.  I have to be careful about uttering those fateful words because I will throw down the blood, sweat, and tears to make it happen.  I take my bucket list very seriously.  That could be why it isn't very long.  But the longer I live, the more things are getting crossed off.

This last weekend quite a few items were registered in the "Been there, done that" category.  And I couldn't be happier.  And yes.  There were tears.  Yes, there was blood.  But it wasn't my own.  I was honoring those that shed blood to fight for something I believe in.  There was sweat in the equation too.  But it was so worth it.  Sweat from years of hard work to "live the dream" inspired by the loss that occurred on that day.  And there dear reader, if you happen to have lived in or been around life in the fire service, you will know that I just gave myself away by uttering that phrase.

September 11, 2001.  Where were you?  I know you've been asked the question.  What were you doing that morning when suddenly all your plans for the day dissolved into hours of gaping, horrified, at any television screen you could get your hands on.  I was preparing breakfast for my kids.  It was such a normal day.  I had a seven and three year old.  One was in school, the other was awaiting friends to come and play while their Mama worked....the perfect day care arrangement.

My phone rang.  It was my Dad.  I love hearing from my folks.  Calls from and to them involve everything from the mundane everyday news, to whom they've seen recently that I might know, to spiritual revelations, and ways God has moved in their lives.  Their calls are always greeted with a smile and a putting away of whatever I was doing so I can grab a cup of coffee, settle in on the couch, and give the conversation my full attention.

"Hey Kris! What are you doing? Are you watching the news??"  My Dad forgets we don't have TV.  I get my news by digging through whatever flower is blooming in my yard at the time and retrieving it from wherever the paper-man deemed to toss it that day.  "I'm makin' breakfast!  Why?  What's going on??"  And then he told me the unimaginable.  America was under attack.  My America.  Under attack.  Planes into buildings.  Multiple planes into multiple buildings.  There had to be some mistake...please...some mistake?  And so, I bundled up all the kids and headed to the nearest Sears store and stood in the electronics section watching as an unthinkable terrorist attack unfolded, frozen, horrified, along with everyone else...their perusing of Craftsman tools completely forgotten.

That was a long day.  It was a day of phone calls.  Reaching out to those I loved, fielding calls from friends that just needed a landline hug, family members checking in, absolute disbelief.  I was so relieved when my husband walked in the door a couple hours early from work.  His boss had the foresight to realize that not much in the way of productivity was going on in the high-rise that they all worked in.  Seattle was also feared to be a target at that time.  People just needed to hold their families and work through the shock of the day.

Fast forward to this past weekend.  Not much hasn't been affected in our lives since 9/11 when you stop to think about it.  Air travel is completely different, national security has been made a new priority, the world of the civil servant has had a spotlight shown on it based on the heroic final actions of so many that rushed to help those trapped in the Twin Towers.  Complete family histories have been rewritten.  9/11 widows and widowers have remarried, finding solace in creating a new family with someone who gives them comfort....history was made that day, and not in a rose-colored glasses way.  But America has risen through it all.  We've shown resilience.  We've modeled resolve.  We've rebuilt. 

I had the supreme privilege of seeing a portion of all of that with my own eyes.  I had the opportunity of visiting New York City with a group of close Firefighter friends.  Our mission was clear.  We were going to pay homage to our fallen.  We were going to reverently visit Ground Zero, feel the loss, and come back with a sense of what that day must have been like.

Easier said than done.  I'm so grateful to have had the chance to make this visit with fellow brothers.  They totally understood when I needed to stand quietly and take it in.  They knew that tears needed to be shed and that I would be okay, but it was part of my process.  We were all in the same place.

The 9/11 memorial and museum that has been rebuilt is so well done.  So much thought and planning went into every detail.  So much honor was paid to those whose lives were lost.  If I was a family member visiting the site where my loved one perished, I would be overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness that is evident.  Maybe some day I will be able to explain it all.  As it was, we wound up visiting the site over three separate days, because the emotional toll that was taken was just too much for one day.

Today, our final day, we visited the 9/11 museum.  The experience is still a little fresh to describe in detail...someday maybe.  The vast scope of the tragedy is something that causes words to fail.  Blocks upon blocks of buildings were decimated.  We are talking New York City blocks which are longer than normal.   Huge blocks of skyscrapers were reduced to powdery dust and massive steel girders.

After working my way quietly through most of the museum, pausing often, reading so many accounts of the incident from so many different perspectives, awed by the detail that the many people tasked with creating the memorial had to sift through, I saw a group of school children being ushered through the area I had just exited. The guide was explaining what they would be seeing.  I tried so hard to see it through their eyes and found it hard to believe that they had never even known a pre-9/11 world.  Most of them hadn't even been twinkles in their Daddy's eyes when those towers fell.  To them, as I mourned the fallen 343 firefighter brethren, and dozens of other workers and civilians that were lost that day, this was just another field trip.  It was a lot to fathom.  It made me wish I had paid a bit more attention to all those field trips I took as a kid....they meant an awful lot to someone a bit older than me.

So, to wrap this up, as I sit 36,000 feet in the air somewhere over Montana,  mentally pulling out  my bucket list, and reverently checking off "Visiting Ground Zero",  there is huge significance.  I'm at that age where big losses are a part of life.  Treasured loved ones, careers, friends who have passed way too soon, physical abilities.  It's all a part of this daily life that we walk.  And through all of that, we find a way to move forward.  We pay our respects.  We feel the loss.  We resolve to never forget.  And then we move forward and build again, with the memories of those loved ones guiding us, and the knowledge that we are honoring them by how we live.

There are an awful lot of thoughts swirling through my mind.  I will have many days worth of walking by the ocean, or the river, or running through the forest on my workouts to process them all.  But the one I have at the moment is this.  Seize your day.  Make a bucket list.  And make it come true.  You'll be so glad you did.  It may involve emotion, cost, time away from work, etc...but it's so worth it.  Crossing off those items will enrich your life, and is a way of honoring those whose lives were ended way too early, before they could see their own lists to fruition.  And living for them is one of the best ways we can remember them.

As always....go....

.....Make it a great day!

The newly built Freedom Tower -
Adjacent to the site of the
Twin Towers

(photos by Kris Perry)