It's hard to believe that it's 9/11 again. I remember that morning like it was yesterday. Alyssa was only 12 days old and I sat here in the livingroom with my 12 day old baby girl in my arms watching the terrorists crash into the Twin Towers. I remember crying and the pain of knowing our country had been attacked. Ten years later my son is heading out for his first mission in his war on terror. Michael was almost 11 years old when the terrorists attempted to destroy this wonderful country we live in. He was playing basketball, riding his bike and just being an 11 year old boy. Now he's fighting for us...for our freedom...for his country.
Tonight was the last phone call I will probably receive from him for several weeks. It started off with trying to clear up some website password issues so I can take care of his business. Then it turned to how proud I was of him and the Marines he is serving with. I told him that I loved him, to be careful...extra careful, and to not worry about anything here at home. He told me he was ready, ready for the challenge. There was no fear in his voice...just determination.
He and I have been through so much together. The first year of his life was very difficult for me as his father was not able to be with us. I was alone raising this little boy. He was all I had....all that I lived for. I went to work and came home to him...his infectious little laugh and his precious smile. He could melt my heart with those big brown eyes. He was such a happy boy despite the sadness that his Momma lived with. He was my calm in the storm. Of course that lasted about 13 years and then he became my storm...but we'll save that for another post. I love that boy...who is now a man. He will always be my baby...my first born...my son.