Parenting through Sept. 11

A parent with older children told me of a living nightmare she'd had. Her daughter was just 4 years old when the World Trade Center towers fell on September 11. And, hoping to preempt any questions or fears, she explained to the child that there had been a tragedy and several people were hurt and killed. Thinking that was enough, she sent the girl to school the next day.

But the child came home angry. "Mommy, you didn't tell me that mean men flew planes into those buildings on purpose," the devastated child accused. "They wanted to kill all those people."

Never again, the mom pledged, would her daughter get such important information from another source.

It is not an isolated parenting problem in these post-September 11th days. In fact, I imagine, it's not particularly unique--how did parents explain to little children the Blitz? Pearl Harbor? the Holocaust? the atomic bomb? Still, it is the problem parents now face, as described by a mom in an essay on Salon.com. That mom, who had apparently been able to tell her 7 year old son all about sex and such botched their initial conversations on terrorism.

And so I began to wonder how I would address the question. Not that I think they'll talk about it in kindergarten, of course; or even that our kids would see it on tv or in the papers (we rarely watch one; we don't get the other). But I needed to give it some thought. We're in NYC a lot and you can't pass any place tourists gather without seeing images of the Twin Towers, either before or during their destruction. And I wanted them to know that Mama and I consider today a special family day to spend together because so many families were wrenched apart. But I wanted to avoid too much discussion of terrorism, Islamophobia, and the innocent American loss of a feeling of safety. I didn't want to scare them, just inform them, prepare them, even protect them, just as when we briefly discussed the earthquake in Haiti. And I wanted to be the one to do it.

The kids went to kung fu, did some grocery shopping, played at home, visited with Babysitter who is back from college for the weekend, played with a neighbor girl while we grilled dinner, and put together two new 60-piece puzzles (one on space; the other, chocolate. Guess which was which). It was while we were doing the puzzles that I put on some music, music I always listen to on this day: Cher's "Song for the Lonely," Carly Simon's "Let the River Run," and Mariah Carey's "Hero." I must have gotten sniffly.

"Why do you sound sad, Mom?" Sis inquired.

Having already talked to Mama about my idea and approach, I took a deep breath. "Well, Sis. I do get sad today. Because a long time ago, something bad happened: mean men made buildings fall down in New York and lots of people died. And I'm sad for them and for their families. But also really glad that we are together. And so today is an important family day for us. We call it September 11th."

Bud was immediately alarmed. Who were these mean men? Where were they now? Why did they do it? Far away (gulp), not here (gulp again), it was a long time ago and nothing else has happened since then (gulp), they were angry at us and wanted to hurt us. Remember how our soldiers are overseas fighting to keep us safe? That's why. And that was it. Only a mild curiosity from Sis of what the towers looked like before and after. That, I said, would have to wait.

Okay, simplistic. Maybe a little scary. Somewhat untrue.

But there's time for that. And when I've explained it more, when they can understand more fully--if that's even possible for any of us--we'll go down to Ground Zero. And we'll look at the 416 trees they're planting, the wall of names they're erecting, the reflecting pools in the footprints of the Twin Towers they're intending. And I'll tell them about that sad and tragic day.

But also about other, happier days there . . . when Gommie (and Banana--did you go? Or was that the Empire State Building? I hated being up in those tall buildings) and I went to the observation deck, when I took my college roommate there for the best grilled hot dog food cart in the plaza, when I took my high school friend on the Staten Island ferry and got the best photograph I ever took of the towers with the Statue of Liberty in the foreground (which I'll scan in one of these days; that was the pre-digital era), when Mama and I walked the Winter Garden on our tour of the tip of Manhattan along with Fraunces Tavern and St. Paul's Chapel.

Because, paraphrasing the child of one of the victims talking about her parent during the memorial ceremony today, let us not just focus on the destruction of the towers, but on what they were all the days before that.