My heart aches Twice

I didn't even realize it was 9/11 this morning - not until scrolling through Facebook before work. I was wondering why everyone was feeling so patriotic. And then came the photos of the twin towers and that feeling of loss welling up beneath my rib cage.

Everyone talks about where they were that morning, when they first heard, when they first saw. But when I think of September 11th, that memory isn't my first, but my second.

The first is standing in our driveway, early morning dew clinging to our ankles as we watched Bryan ride his new, red scooter. He wore a paper crown and a crooked grin. I always find it ironic the same day tragedy occurred, we were celebrating a life well lived, oblivious of what was to come.

Now, years later, a breaking heart still overshadows a breaking country. Amidst the memories of falling towers, piles of rubble, and grieving disbelief, is Bryan. My heart aches for this country, for what we lost.

But it aches harder for the birthdays left uncelebrated.