The Little Things

My husband is obsessed with 9/11. Anytime there's a documentary on, he's tuned in and with the 10 year anniversary this week we've been watching a lot of the footage. Reliving it, dissecting what happened, hearing first hand accounts from the victim's families.

It's difficult to watch. I don't know if other people feel this way, but I can't think about 9/11 without getting a huge pit in my stomach. The fear of the possibilities swallows me and I start to go through what ifs.

What if terrorists strike again?

What if my husband is on the plane?

What if I have cancer and I don't know it?

What if one of my kids get sick?

What if we get into a horrible car accident?

All of the horrible possibilities pile on top of each other until I want to crawl back into bed and never crawl back out. Sometimes in those moments it's tempting to stop living because I'm so scared of dying.

Which is silly if you think about it because there's so much to live for. So I take a deep breath and force myself to take stock of all I have to be thankful for, to think about the reasons I get out of bed every single morning.

The drooly smiles.

The surprise hugs and kisses.

The sound of my husband's laugh.

Fan mail from 12-year-olds.

BBQs at my parents house where my brother-in-law scares the crap out of the kids while hiding in a dark shed.

Hilarious videos of my nephew drawing all over my sister's car.

The time that the guy at the Mac store gave me a new charger free of charge, just to be nice.

That feeling you get the moment you put down a really amazing book.

So, tell me, what gets you out of bed every morning?