It dawned on me today when my son Justin posted that he was sitting in his 6th grade math class on September 11th that there are few days in one's life that you remember so vividly where you were at and what you were doing when something happened, good or bad.
I can remember where I was at and what I was doing on January 28, 1986. I can remember the conversations I had that morning with my fellow co-worker, as we stood around the radio at work waiting for more news, about how she could vividly remember where she was on November 22, 1963.
I can remember where I was and what I was doing on October 28, 1989. You won't find that dates' importance to me on Google or Wikipedia though as it was the day I became a mother for the first time.
I can remember where I was and what I was doing on June 28, 1991.
I can remember where I was and what I was doing on September 11, 2001.
Thinking back over my life and these days that are so momentous I will never forget where I was at or what I was doing I'm thankful that the good momentous days outweigh the bad ones.
My hope for this world, but most especially for my children, is that those days that are so good we can't and don't ever want to forget them outweigh the days that rock us to our core, the days we'd rather forget but are unable to.