Reflections

Cullen got his feelings hurt for the first time a few weeks ago. He spotted some kids at the park out the window and asked if we could go play. Of course I told him we could, scooped up Bennett and across the street we went. As we approached, C ran, excited to the two kids his age sitting on the grass on the edge of the park. He sat down right next to the little boy and I could see his little mouth utter the words "Hi, I'm, Cuwen Yawabee", his standard new greeting. I smiled, proud of his attitude toward making new friends which is much braver than mine. And then it happened. The little boy kicked Cullen in the leg and told him to Go Away. I looked helplessly to the kid's mom who was sitting on a nearby bench, hoping she would step in, but realized that she was more concerned with her iphone than telling her son to play nice. I turned back to my sweet baby boy, who had moved about a foot away from the kids and was looking at them with a bewildered face. Then, I saw it hit him: They don't want to play with me. Defeat. Disappointment. Confusion. I watched as C got up from the edge and went to play by himself. And I thought to myself, what happens the day I have to explain to him real hurt, real pain, real loss?

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Sunday morning, after a few episodes of Curious George, Cullen headed into his playroom and Kev and I switched on the news. It was an hour long memorial to those who lost their lives in the Pentagon. C came wandering out of his playroom and looked at the TV, What's dat building Mommy? It's called the Pentagon honey, that's where Pop works. Ok, Mommy.

A few minutes later, Cullen returned from his game of trains, looked again at the TV, now showing a picture of the burning Pentagon and asked, Oh Oh Mommy, what happened a Pop's building? O honey, that building broke a long time ago. Dere's firetrucks dere? Yes darling, the firemen came.

And off he went again.

There are certain moments that as parents, you are programmed to prepare for: waking up at night, bumps and bruises, attachement issues, physical milestones; but no one prepares you for this. How do you explain terrorism to a 2-year-old? He knows that firemen are good guys, but he doesn't know that fire hurts people. He knows to say Go Army, Beat Navy, but he doesn't know that his Daddy spent two years in Iraq protecting our freedom. He doesn't know what freedom means.

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As I was relating this story to my mom over the phone Sunday afternoon, she shared a story of her own. When my older brother was 4 years old, the space shuttle Challenger blew up in the sky. My brother asked my mom what happened to the astronauts. The first thing she could think of was, They went to Heaven. And my brother's innocent response, O, so that's how you get to Heaven. 

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I know that as the years go by, Cullen and Bennett will have more questions. They'll want to know what happened. They'll want to know why. They possibly will want to know why Daddy is deployed and not home with us. Kev and I will have to find a way to answer this questions. How to explain hurt and pain and loss, while also explaining hope, humility and forgiveness. We'll know how Spetember 11th affected our lives: me as a senior in high school right outside of DC, Kev as a junior at West Point, realizing that contract his signed to join the Army 2 weeks prior all the sudden took on new meaning. We'll have to accept that 10 more years from now, when our boys are old enough to really grasp what happened, it will be a faint memory, something taught in history books. And I wonder how we keep the reality of the events alive while praying whole-heartedly that our sons won't have to ever have to experience that kind of terror in their lifetimes.

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Until then, I'll always shudder on a really peaceful, blue sky, fall day. I'll be thankful Kev made it back from Iraq twice unharmed. I'll always wonder a little bit what life would be like had the attacks never happened. And I'll answer Cullen's questions as they come, hoping I have the right answers and honestly hoping that my boys won't really ever have to understand because they will live in a time of peace.