Earthquakes, hurricanes, the 10th anniversary of 9/11 - this post was inspired by the past, recent and upcoming current events in our nation. Photo credit: Flickr Creative Commons, Editor B
It was a Tuesday, January 28th, 1986 to be exact - and I was in 4th grade.
The morning was filled with school-wide excitement and lots of talk. Everyone - the entire school, the entire community, most of the nation (not just my hometown in Ohio) - was anxiously awaiting the big event.
11:38 a.m. came and went, but something went wrong.
I knew it. My classmates knew it. And our teachers were visibly shaken.
My entire class was eager to go eat lunch because we were ready for the recess time that followed. Yet, we knew something had gone majorly wrong.
We were supposed to be awaiting historical news…
For on this day, Tuesday, January 28th, 1986 at 11:38 a.m. EST, the Challenger Space Shuttle was lifting off to space with Christa McAuliffe - a 37-year-old wife, mother and high school social studies teacher from New Hampshire who underwent months of shuttle training to become the first ordinary U.S. civilian to travel to space.
But instead, something went wrong.
In the midst of millions of people watching on televisions, and hundreds of people watching from the ground - including Christa’s husband and two small children ages 9 and 6 - the space shuttle never reached its destination. Instead, only seconds after lift-off, the shuttle exploded.
The Aftermath
And I really just didn’t get it.
I can honestly tell you, as a 9-year-old, I didn’t fully understand. I didn’t understand how I should feel, how I should react and the significance of what had really just happened.
In my 9-year-old head I thought: They were just going into space? How could this have happened? After months of preparation, after years of discussion, after decades of successful space exploration - how could this not have gone as planned?
At 9 years old, I just couldn’t fully comprehend what went wrong and the emotions that were attached to it.
I knew the Challenger explosion was a tragedy, and in the days and weeks that followed, it was obviously headline news. Yet, over the course of that year, the event itself eventually became more and more like a piece of history to me.
But let’s not gloss over the fact that it did effect me. There was a personal aftermath to the event. I know this because in hindsight, it is one of the few days I can easily recall from my youth as an elementary student.
Perspective is in the Eye of the Beholder
Through the eyes of a nine-year-old, the explosion of the Challenger Space Shuttle was an historical event. But perspective can change.
I know first hand it can change because now, when I think back to that day and put my “mom goggles on,” I see it in a whole new light. I see that day through the eyes of a mother and a wife. And in my reflection to this historic tragedy:
- I tear up as I think about Christa’s 6 and 9-year old children who would never get to grow up with their own mother. (What if my children had to grow up without me?)
- I struggle as I think of Christa’s husband who had to somehow explain this tragedy to his children - who were there to witness their mother’s tragic, yet heroic death. (How would my husband explain this to our three kids?)
- And I wonder, how the teachers in my elementary school and my own parents and other adults that I knew were able to deal with this sudden, unexpected tragedy. (Could I have held my composure in front of a classroom of students?)
I now put myself in other people’s shoes… And at nine, this was not something I did.
As a mother, as a wife, as an adult, I now look at tragedy from the perspective of: What would I do? What if that happened to me?
Cause and Effect: The Unknown Lessons of Tragedy
10 years ago I was newly married and taking my 1st steps into the world as an adult. Now, 10 years later, as we approach the 10th anniversary of 9/11, I feel overwhelmingly grateful that I was not one of many mothers out there that had to deal with the emotions of my own children, on top of my own emotions, during this significant and tragic event.
I’ve had my own brushes with personal tragedies. The most significant when my now 7-year-old nephew was diagnosed with a brain tumor. As my nephew recovers today, I often think back on how my three children will remember this time - a little over a year ago - of personal struggle.
Will they remember our family’s tears and my constant red eyes?
Can they recall my niece as a live-in house guest during her brother’s hospitalization?
Do they fully understand what happened, the fear in their parents faces, and the stress and uncertainty our immediate family went through?
Most importantly, I wonder what type of effect this experience will have on them as they grow up?
If I Only had a Crystal Ball
The problem with tragedy is that it strikes when you least expect it. It is also impossible to fully prepare for. And now that I’m a parent, there is much more at stake when these unforeseeable days arrive - because I have more than just my own emotions to deal with.
Some tragedies like earthquakes, hurricanes, and other natural disasters can be loosely predicted. But their aftermath and the extent of their effect is still just as great and definitely not predictable.
On Tuesday, January 28th, 1986 at 11:38 a.m. - when the space shuttle Challenger exploded - I first began to notice and understand that all the planning in the world, may and can be blown away in a moments time.
On Tuesday, September 11th, 2001 - after the 9/11 attacks - I started to realize that tragedy - tragedy of historic nature and with enormous consequences - can hit closer to home then I ever thought.
And on Friday, July 23rd, 2010 - when we learned of my nephew’s cancer - I fully realized that everything else can be replaced, rebuilt, reworked or reorganized - but our family, friends, neighbors and co-workers - the people we care about - cannot.
These were days in my life when something went wrong.
Share your thoughts in a comment. How do you deal with tragedy as a parent now that you have more than your own emotions to deal with? How do you talk with your kids when tragedy strikes? When you reflect on your youth, how did tragic events change and effect you?
{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }
I was nine as well when the Challenger tragedy occurred, and the shock of it to my mind still stays with me today. I understood what happened, but I really felt like I didn’t quite grasp it, like why and how. Since then the major events in my life have also stunned me and made it hard for me to understand, even as an adult. They have also helped to prepare me to be a person who knows that life is fragile and as much as I pray and hope my family will never be in the immediate throes of a major tragedy, I know ahead of time the chaos and panic that can ensue from an event. Yesterday power went out for several hours where we live. Phone communication was down as well. But I heard rumors: the power outage was extensive, the whole southwest region of North America, terrorists might have hit two major power sources, terrorists were on the east coast in vans planning who knows what… I tried to keep a rational mind on the forefront, thinking these are just rumors, don’t panic until the facts are known. Yet, I knew that I could only do one thing: stay home with my girls and stay safe. Fortunately our power came on in the middle of the night, from a failed connection or something like that, and I know that the people are aware of possible terrorist threats, but life is still going on as we know it. But as I learned last night, just the change of the power being out created uncertainty for my daughters. They were nervous and confused and just couldn’t quite understand the why and how. So I turned it around and made it as comforting as possible for them with a candlelit bubble bath for them and reading story books by candlelight. They are teaching me the importance of staying strong and calm even when inside I too am confused and uncertain about the world.
Kim, that is so true about our kids:
There is something to be said about having to stay strong for others that in turn gives me more strength than I ever knew I had. Yet, likewise, it is because of my children - and the intense feelings of love that comes with having my kids - that sometimes I have way more fear than I used.
Glad you are safe, the electricity is back up, and the panic (if only momentarily) has subsided.
I think once you are a mother, in some ways you relieve certain tragedies through your new perspective. When I was in high school, a classmate tragically committed suicide. The whole school grieved, and it was a very sad time. I think about this classmate often. But since having children, I think about this tragedy in a new way, from the viewpoint of the parents. How did they survive? How could I ever survive? I didn’t have that empathy back then.
Motherhood is such a blessing, but also scary. You love your little beings so much that the threat of tragedy seems too much to bear. And when you see it happen to other people, you feel it in a way you didn’t before.
Well said. What a horrible and very personal thing to have to remember from such a young age. Our children certainly give us a new and sometimes scarier perspective. I think it is another way that my kids also help me grow as an adult (in the same way that I help them to grow and experience new things). Thank you for sharing your insight and thoughts.
I remember that day well. I too was in 4th grade and my teacher, a HUGE space enthusiast, had us watching it live. We were all stunned. No one really understand what had happened but we knew it wasn’t good.
Fast foward to 9/11 and though an adult, though not yet a parent, it still wasn’t any easier to process as we were watching it unfold on televeision. I can’t imagine having to explain something like that to my child. I was scared and I would hate to project that to her. I can only pray that God will bless and guide me whenever I’m put in that position.
Somehow, I believe that our children really help to give us the strength we need to be strong when tragedy strikes. I also think that is why friends/husbands/partners/other adults that we trust and feel comfortable around are so important to us as parents - because we are only human too, and we too also need someone to helps us through our struggles and tragedy (just like our kids need us).
This post also made me think of an email that has been circulating over the years. It’s lengthy but worth the read. I hope you don’t mind my posting it here.
Being a Mom
We are sitting at lunch when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of “starting a family.” “We’re taking a survey,” she says, half-joking. “Do you think I should have a baby?”
“It will change your life.” I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.
“I know,” she says, “no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations…”
But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but that becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.
I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking “What if that had been my child?” That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub.
That an urgent call of “Mom!” will cause her to drop a soufflé - or her best crystal without a moment’s hesitation.
I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going in to an important business meeting and she will think of her baby’s sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of her discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
I want my daughter to know that everyday decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy’s desire to go to the men’s room rather than the women’s at McDonald’s will become a major dilemma. That there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years - not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish hers.
I want her to know that a caesarian scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.
My daughter’s relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.
I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children’s future.
I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or a cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real, it actually hurts.
My daughter’s quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. “You’ll never regret it.” I finally say.
Then I reach across the table, squeeze my daughter’s hand and offer a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. This blessed gift from God…that of being a mother.
Author Unknown
Tatum, that’s beautiful. THANK YOU for sharing it.
Just last night I was watching the news with my 17year old, and she said she didn’t remember much about 9/11 - and asked why I hadn’t told her about it. It’s funny because I’m sure we did talk about it, but she was 7 at the time, and I remember consciously turning off the TV so my kids didn’t have to see the World Trade Center keep coming down. I had heard that some young children thought it was a new building each time - and I so wanted to protect my kids from the constant viewing of the violence. We’re in a community that lost mothers and fathers at the World Trade Center, and it was so overwhelming. My older daughter was in middle school at the time, and we talked about it - but I did try to keep it at a minimum. It was such a difficult time in so many ways - and I remember being torn between wanting to shield them and wanting to help them process and make sense of it all - although I’m not sure how possible that really was. I am so mixed about the ten year anniversary - I’m exhausted already from the constant talk on TV. I think I may repeat my decision to just leave it off for a while.
I’m really curious to hear other people’s reactions- we are all different - but some things, like wanting to protect our kids are universal.
I tend to leave the TV news off too Lisa. It’s too much for me emotionally. And if it’s too much for me, it’s gotta be too much for my kids too… right??? Although, I’m not fully confident in that choice… I actually struggle with it quite a bit. Because I want to protect my kids from the pain and images that give me nightmares at night, but I also want them to be informed (age appropriately) about current events… I’m with you - curious to hear other people’s reactions.