9/11

My younger brother came barging into my room that morning, just before 9am (central time). He had this weird, panicked look on his face, and said, "A plane crashed into the World Trade Center." I argued with him for a minute in disbelief, before I realized my skinny white brother was just too pale to be lying. I went downstairs to my mom's room, where she was sitting on the floor, holding my then two year old brother in her arms, just horror-struck. As I looked towards her small TV set, saw the smoke and fire, and heard the fear in the voices on the television, my heart sank, and my life was forever altered.

Throughout the coming months and years to follow, as our country banded together and geared up for the fight that is still ongoing, 8 years later, my brother and I were struck with the unwavering desire to help. Of course, at 10 and 13, there wasn't much we could do. But I remember feeling so angry and so helpless. I didn't know how I'd help, but I vowed someday, I would. When the War on Terror began, I had my answer. I turned to my mom one day and informed her, point blank, that I'd be enlisting into the military when I was old enough. I was going to DO something.

5 years and 2 months later, still holding on to the promise, I raised my hand and swore to defend my country against all enemies, both foreign and domestic. When I shipped for basic training in January of 2007, I was nervous, sure, but not afraid. I knew whatever I had to go through, I would bear. I had no qualms about my choice. No lack of steel in my spine when it came to years of my life spent in the desert. If I did start to lose my faith in myself, all I had to do was remember the smoke rising and hear the haunting screams of people running away from the epicenter that is Ground Zero, and once again, I was ready for anything.

Now, 8 years later, my life looks quite different. After 7 months in training, I was given a medical discharge from the Army, due to injuries sustained during training. I now have a 10 month old son that I'm raising on my own, and the only support I can give to the war effort at this time is the sacrifice of my husband for a year or more as he himself serves our country in the same effort. I still hold a great love for my country in my heart. My husband and I will raise our son to have the same respect for what America stands for as we do.

Will I re-enlist someday? I have hope that I will. Right now, it's not something I can do in good conscience, with a small child at home and his daddy in a war zone himself. But as I watch the footage of that awful day run again, I'm struck with all the same feelings. I want to help. I want to do something. And most importantly of all, I have hope that, just as before, our country will rise from the ashes, stronger and smarter. We will pass this test.