A Tale of Two Parks

In my home neighborhood, there are two large parks within a few miles of each other. Both parks were the sites of events this weekend, though each gathering was held for entirely different reasons.

In the first park, a red, white and blue flag waved proudly in the air. In the second, a pink and purple banner waved proudly as well. The first park called solemn visitors to remember death, while the other called joyous guests to celebrate life.

As both parks hosted simultaneous events that were not only close to my home but also close to my heart, I had to choose which event to attend. I chose to attend the latter, because it was my daughter’s birthday party.

The other event was a September 11th memorial service.

But just because I chose one over the other, that does not mean I forgot about the other’s intent. On the contrary, I, like most of the nation, if not world, carried memories and prayers with me throughout the entire day.

As I celebrated the life and growth of my daughter Maggie, who just turned 3, many thoughts came to mind because of the day on which her party was held.

I was grateful for her life, for the fact that many great men and women died to ensure the lives and liberties of others such as myself, my husband and my daughters—and you.

If not for the soldiers who dedicated themselves to their country, we may not have been able to celebrate in a beautiful park, in a democratic state, in a free nation.

But what of the day on which we celebrated, I asked myself. Was it acceptable to celebrate on such a day, on the anniversary of a most egregious attack?

I could come up with only one answer: yes. Further yet, I concluded, it was more than acceptable. It was a good idea.

In celebrating life, we were celebrating and exercising those very freedoms generations of Americans had fought to win and still battle to protect each day. We were celebrating the fact that our nation did not fall to a terrorist plot ten years ago and that we picked up and moved on to let life and freedom prevail.

Another way that my family celebrated life and freedom on Sunday was by spending time with Maggie’s grandmother, my mother-in-law.

Though it got little attention in light of the 9/11 anniversary and other Sunday events, such as Steelers football, Sunday was Grandparents’ Day, a national holiday with the same intents and purposes as holidays like Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.

My mother-in-law is the widow of an Air Force medic, and his memory was honored two-fold on Sunday. He was remembered as a grandfather and as a military servant, someone who fostered life and liberty in all that he did.

While I’ll never forget the events of Sept. 11, 2001, I’ll also never allow those memories to bring me down and sadden me to the point where I can’t enjoy life. The passengers on Flight 93, the first responders who died in rescue missions, and the soldiers who fought in the subsequent war would not allow terrorists to take those freedoms from me.

And neither shall I.