Twelve years ago I was a newlywed in a tiny basement apartment in Sugarhouse, Utah. My husband had left for work at a countertop workshop hours earlier and I was getting ready in the silence. I worked at a dentist office and I hated it. I was dreading going in. I drove to work listening to a cd, I can't even remember which one. When I got in the office the girl at the front desk said, "Crazy huh?" I had no clue what she was talking about. I politely nodded. But then I saw it, in the break room the tv was on and the images were being replayed over and over again. My body ached from what I saw.
That night I watched the news and continued to see the same images, the same film being shown and I couldn't get over it. I cried a lot. I didn't know anyone who was in New York, I didn't even know anyone who knew someone else there, but I felt for those people, I felt for those family members. As more news came out about other planes I was devasted.
Years later when I started writing my grandparents story, I learned from them about their experience when Pearl Harbor was bombed. My grandpa was already at a camp in training and my grandma was home in Salt Lake City, Utah. She was a highschool student. Grandma's experience was similar to mine. They sat at home listening to the radio, the following day they listened to President Roosevelt speak. It saddens me that the world is like this. I know I can't control the world, but I can control MY world and my attitude. I love my family and to me that is the most important thing. I can learn from experiences, heartache and trials and move on and become a better person. That is my goal to do something better every day.