This morning I woke up feeling particularly pulled in different directions. Not like most days when I have a gazillion things to do and never get anything done. This feels different.
Yesterday, The Pittsburgh Post Gazette published a front page story on our good friend Lyz Glick and her husband Jeremy who was one of the heros of 9/11. Before storming the cockpit of the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania, Jeremy called Lyzie to tell her he loved her.
He asked her if he should attack the hijackers and she said he should.
He told her that all the decisions she will make for their young daughter would be right by him.
These two amazing people met in 9th grade biology, and were prom king and queen together. And now, he's gone, and Lyzie is raising her daughter on her own.
The reason the paper wrote a story now is Lyz has written a book called Your Father's Voice. It's a beautiful tribute. It's not that I'm trying to plug her new book, though it would be great if it did really well.
I'm just distracted by the unpredictability of life.
Of course, it's completely paralyzing to think that something could happen to me or Andy, and it's not something I have any intention of dwelling on, but on the other hand, shouldn't I think just a wee bit about what I'd like my girls to have from me? If I were to take the time to write notes, or do a video, or keep a special journal, even if I live to be 95, wouldn't those efforts be gifts (maybe valued, or maybe only hilarious) for the girls?
I have a friend who created a list of experiences she wanted to share with her kids before they left home. When I read the list, I thought there was something to it. Why not look ahead and think what I want for my girls so the time doesn't just slip by without us doing the things we really want to do together? And if, god forbid, something were to happen, they'd have the list.
Yes, but who has the time?
It's just one of those days when the mundane seems a bit less important, and the big stuff feels a bit closer.
And onto the mundane. As I mentioned, I'm torn today.
In a week, I getting on a plane to Australia with the girls. I'm running around like crazy getting ready (it's messing with my DNA to buy ALL my Christmas presents by early December). But more importantly, what am I going to do with a two and four year old on a plane for hours and hours and hours? Andy is coming later, smart guy, so I'm on my own.
Coloring books and crayons -- check. Paperback books -- check. Vegetables to cut with plastic knife (and eat?) for the 4 yr old -- check. Arrggg ... this could get ugly.
From the big to the little. As I said, it's one of those days.