We were close.

I've never blogged about 9/11. It is still raw.

We lived 2 miles from the Pentagon, in a tiny apartment that we loved. We didn't love it as much that day.

We smelled the smoke. We heard the sirens. We saw the rescue personnel.

In the parking lot of our little apartment complex was the closest Red Cross Headquarters.

I took brownies. I didn't know what else to do. So, I baked. I delivered them with baby Sam on my back. I cried. The dirty, tired firemen cried. And, they made me feel like I had contributed something although I know it was nothing.

I have not watched any of the 9/11 movies. I have read none of the books. It is still raw.

Jeff and I sat around the table long after dinner was over this evening and cried.

And, we did all we know to do besides bake brownies. We remembered.