Thankful in Peoria
It is true; life changed September 11, 2001. One month later, I still have trouble staying focussed on my work—reminded of the event by headlines in every newspaper and magazine; every radio and television station; as well as by family, friends and colleagues as they express shock and concern.
But there remains a sadness, a sick feeling in my stomach which I can’t shake.
The nervousness grew when our office building was evacuated due to a false bomb scare at the Peoria County Court House, and again upon receiving news that one of our city police officers was brutally murdered.
I think of the World Trade Center each time I see our own Twin Towers on the landscape. I glance up each time I hear an airplane fly overhead.
National and local governments changed their agendas overnight. Domestic issues gave way to international affairs, security issues, and our national defense. Focus on civility at our City Council meetings is replaced by dealing with urban terrorism in our city’s streets. It does seem party lines disappeared as "United We Stand" is said with greater conviction.
Morning conversation with our children has changed from "What should I wear today?" to "Did anything happen while I slept?" ... translated into ... "Did we go to war?" Current events become personal as young men and women wonder if the draft will be instituted, and if a war be fought here or "over there." As the mother of two young men, I give serious thought to the reality of how military engagement might affect our lives.
Life—and our quality of life—is a little more precious this Thanksgiving as I’ve been reminded how quickly it can cease to exist. I watch the smiles and listen more intently to the sound of laughter from my friends and family. Certain songs and signs of patriotism bring tears quickly to my eyes.
I’m thankful for normal daily routines: waking up in a comfortable bed in a safe neighborhood; making a fresh pot of coffee; taking a hot shower; choosing from more than one suit of clothes; driving to work in my own car; being able to communicate with friends, family, and business associates; and putting in a productive workday.
I’m thankful for the sports and cultural activities this community provides, both to participate in or as a spectator. I’m thankful I have enough time, money and resources to adequately take care of my family and myself, and still give time, money and resources to others.
I’m thankful I live in this community—where close to $1 million was raised for the American Red Cross Disaster Fund in less than three weeks; where community leaders raised money and hammers to build the Rolling River Children’s Playground on the riverfront; and where policemen and their wives organized a major fund raising effort on behalf of a colleague’s grief-stricken family.
I give thanks this Thanksgiving that I was reminded of how precious life is—and can choose to live it with a more thankful heart. TPW
But there remains a sadness, a sick feeling in my stomach which I can’t shake.
The nervousness grew when our office building was evacuated due to a false bomb scare at the Peoria County Court House, and again upon receiving news that one of our city police officers was brutally murdered.
I think of the World Trade Center each time I see our own Twin Towers on the landscape. I glance up each time I hear an airplane fly overhead.
National and local governments changed their agendas overnight. Domestic issues gave way to international affairs, security issues, and our national defense. Focus on civility at our City Council meetings is replaced by dealing with urban terrorism in our city’s streets. It does seem party lines disappeared as "United We Stand" is said with greater conviction.
Morning conversation with our children has changed from "What should I wear today?" to "Did anything happen while I slept?" ... translated into ... "Did we go to war?" Current events become personal as young men and women wonder if the draft will be instituted, and if a war be fought here or "over there." As the mother of two young men, I give serious thought to the reality of how military engagement might affect our lives.
Life—and our quality of life—is a little more precious this Thanksgiving as I’ve been reminded how quickly it can cease to exist. I watch the smiles and listen more intently to the sound of laughter from my friends and family. Certain songs and signs of patriotism bring tears quickly to my eyes.
I’m thankful for normal daily routines: waking up in a comfortable bed in a safe neighborhood; making a fresh pot of coffee; taking a hot shower; choosing from more than one suit of clothes; driving to work in my own car; being able to communicate with friends, family, and business associates; and putting in a productive workday.
I’m thankful for the sports and cultural activities this community provides, both to participate in or as a spectator. I’m thankful I have enough time, money and resources to adequately take care of my family and myself, and still give time, money and resources to others.
I’m thankful I live in this community—where close to $1 million was raised for the American Red Cross Disaster Fund in less than three weeks; where community leaders raised money and hammers to build the Rolling River Children’s Playground on the riverfront; and where policemen and their wives organized a major fund raising effort on behalf of a colleague’s grief-stricken family.
I give thanks this Thanksgiving that I was reminded of how precious life is—and can choose to live it with a more thankful heart. TPW