I remember that right after I got the call that made me aware of the attack, I realized quickly that we were at war. I packed a bag and moved quickly through the house, afraid that there was still a chance we'd have to evacuate. Maybe it wasn't over. What would I need? I stood for a moment, frozen in my living room, my dogs at my heels, sensing my anxiety, and looked at everything I had there--furniture, vases, crystal, photos, books, computer. And I knew at that moment that nothing would ever be the same. That none of it mattered. That the only thing to take would be the dogs, good first aid and survival kits, my passport, lots of really good socks, some clothing and water. I don't need much stuff, when push comes to shove.
It's a good lesson to take out of this, I muse, as we pass the toll booth on 87 Northbound.
