But what I remember most were the days following. We would go for walks to the park and it was so quiet. No air traffic. Everyone seemed to be just walking around quietly mourning. And then one day we startled & looked up. A plane flew overhead. My heart caught in my throat. My husband & I tightened out grip on our son's hand. It was an Air Force jet. We live near enough to Selfridge that the planes do fly over. But it was still strange to hear one again.
So what do I do differently now? Is it bad to say not much? Not with that express reason anyway. We do donate more, but we always have. The biggest change was within our own lives. We appreciate every day we have together that much more. We know how lucky we are to be here together. And to be here together where yes, an attack happened. But looking at other parts of the world where they live it everyday, we are truly blessed.