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Twenty years ago tonight, I wasn’t feeling very well. It was the beginning of some kind of bad cold or flu. I was in high school and my mom decided it was best for me to stay home from school the next morning. I woke up on September 11, 2001 much later than my alarm clock usually went off, to the sound of my mother’s voice telling me that a second airplane had flown into the World Trade Center and our country was under attack. We watched the news in horror the rest of that day, and for many days after that. Ten years ago tonight, again, I wasn’t feeling very well. I was 9 months pregnant with Beckett, Colt was at a gig, and I had just gone out to grab some pizza with my parents and Cash who was 1 ½. Throughout the rest of the night, it became clear I was in early labor. That night was long, and as the sun rose the next morning I knew that was the day we were going to meet our second son. The college that was down the street from our house had placed small American flags around the perimeter of the
