Digging in the dirt

Five years ago today, I sat at work and did absolutely nothing but watch tv with my mouth hanging open. I was pregnant with Evan, though I didn't know that he was a boy and I hadn't yet felt him kick. Mike and I spent the next week with CNN on all day and all night, both horrified and fascinated by what was happening. I can't say I was directly affected by September 11th--I knew no one who died or was injured, I didn't fly much--but like everyone else in our country, that day is still one that changed me.

It's strange to think that was five years ago already. Evan is a tall, skinny preschooler now, and he's even got a little brother. I can only begin to imagine the terror of mothers on that day--mothers with children at home, children at school, adult children overseas, grown children in tall office buildings. My brother now lives in New York City, with his fiancee who is from there--how frantic would I be now if something happened? As I've experienced more in my own life, I can now start to get what the experience of September 11th must have been like for so many people, people just like me with sons and brothers and friends that were on planes and in towers.

This weekend was for a different kind of remembrance in my own life. I went up to Asbury Woods to help plant Lauren's wildflower meadow. Lisa and I were there, along with Lauren's parents and many other family friends. We planted flowers, grass and trees and put picnic tables in the ground. As Lisa and I tromped through the mud and flung seeds, we laughed and talked and remembered all the fun adventures Lauren used to take us on. She was always one for adventure, and the outdoors, and this garden is going to be a perfect tribute to her.

The meadow will be a lovely place, somewhere we can take our children, somewhere we can go to think of her. I'm excited about it, and glad that I could do some small thing to honor her. The flowers will not be in full bloom for another three years--about that time, it will be ten years she's been gone. But it's nice to think that part of her will always live on this way. Lauren loved life, and lived it, and something beautiful and so alive will be the best way to remember her. And I know we will.