Since 9/11, We're Still Livin'

Parents prepare for certain questions when their children begin elementary school. My husband and I were no different, role-playing routines for the inevitable “Where do babies come from?” and “Is there really a tooth fairy?” However, nothing prepared me for last week’s inquiry.

“Mommy, do you know what happened on September 11th?”

My twin sons were eighteen months old on 09.11.01.



Only six now, I hadn’t thought about discussing the particular horrors of 9/11 with them. Not yet anyway. When they’re older, I will take out newspaper clippings, magazine articles and even a few documentaries that might help explain the events of that day. For now, my child's simple question stumped me. As I drove home, no quick or comforting answers came to mind. We pulled into our driveway and I turned around to face them.

“Yes, sweetie, I know about September 11th,” I finally said. “Do you?”

My youngest son nodded.

“Bad men flew airplanes into New York City,” he said.

That’s certainly part of the story. My eyes filled with tears as I wondered what to add. As always, they were looking to me for more.

“It was a sad day,” I whispered.

I don’t know anyone who looks forward to the time when we have to explain evil to our children. My boys know about strangers and bullies. They are frightened enough by imaginary villains like The Green Goblin. I want to postpone introducing real-life bad guys who will illicit nightmares not easily forgotten; yet, I don’t have much of a choice. Friends and teachers are opening up a new and sometimes scary world and I must be available for comment. So I told my children about the sadness of that September morning.

They wanted to know why bad men hate America and I told them truthfully,"I don't know."

I also talked about real heroes, fire fighters and police officers, who rushed to save people. I focused on how we came together as a nation afterward with a renewed love for our country. After our talk, both boys were silent for a while. They looked like little men, contemplating the shock we all felt five years ago. Then my youngest was ready to go out in the backyard and play.

My oldest hugged me and said, “I bet if the Fantastic Four had been in New York, nothing bad would have happened.”

I returned his hug without saying a word, letting him be a little boy just a little while longer.