This moves me in a way I can't explain. Which explains why I started crying in class. Bawling is probably a more accurate word. I can't imagine what it would feel like to ask your blood to die--to, quite literally, send your son to his death in the name of heroism. I think a lot about love and its power--and I wonder what I would have done had I had someone in the Twin Towers or had someone in one of those airplanes.