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On the tenth anniversary of 9/11, we will be celebrating the birth of my son, born one year after the tragedy. I've never watched the anniversary footage on TV. After a year had passed, the media was replaying the exploding world of NYC, the Pentagon and a field in PA but I was in labor giving birth to a big boy with a surprising lock of golden hair at the crown of his otherwise dark head. Early in the morning, holding the sleeping newborn in my arms, the hospital was eerily quiet. The only sounds came from televisions repeating the shocking imagery and commentaries from one year before. Today I read a courageous letter from a mother who lost her beloved, charismatic son in Iraq 8 years ago. Her burden of grief is beyond my imagination but she knew it was normal and that it was also a sort of connection to her son. She also knew his loss could destroy her but she chose lightness, life, and even a commitment to playfulness and humor in the face of the horror. She says, "Last year I came to a conclusion for myself. I did not want to define my life by death. I did not want to define my life by the loss of Stephen." In the letter, she explains why she has also decided not to attend memorials. "I admire anyone who can go to memorials. But, I cannot do it. And, I want to stop calling myself names because I can’t. And, I want to stop feeling I am disappointing people I admire because I cannot. I’ve done what I could. I have talked to vets to assure them that I, a mother whose son did not make it, do not want them to feel guilty for surviving for one second! That I rejoice in their return home! I’ve honored my son’s sacrifice in every way I have been able to, and I need to forgive myself that I just am not strong enough to hear his name called when Taps is being played by a bagpiper because he has been taken from my arms…from my life. No… I’m going to laugh with him, tell him how my day went, give him a kiss or a wink—I’m going to hold him close in the loving, living part of my heart that belongs to no one else." So I will continue my avoidance of memorial tributes in the media this Sunday, the 10th anniversary of 9/11. We'll rejoice with my son, grateful beyond words that he's a part of our lives. He'll blow out nine candles on his chocolate cake and open wrapped gifts of Lego bricks and I will celebrate life.