Edit.

Much like ten years ago, I found myself glued to the TV all day yesterday. From the memorial service at 8:30 a.m. to the documentary I finally shut off at 11:30 p.m., I could not turn away from footage that begged me to turn it off.

I did not want Hudson to see...well, really anything that was on the television and so I was grateful that he was able to spend the majority of the day with his dad outside. Every time he came near the family room I would grab the remote and change the channel. At one point I accidentally hit the "freeze" frame button instead of "last". Little Man looked at the screen and said, "That building is on fire, Mama." My heart moved up into my throat and all I could squeak out was a weak, "Yeah." I was so grateful he had no other questions and hanging out with his dad and a chainsaw was more interesting than mama folding clothes watching television. 

Just like so many other American parents, I have to figure out how to explain the tragedy of 9/11 to my kids. I have to find words to make it all make sense. Unfortunately someone will have to make it make sense to me first.