Remembering 2001

We've watched most of the ABC program "The Path to 911" and were impressed. While there are moments that are dramatized, they stuck primarily to documented and factual events and conversations. It was less emotional than we were afraid it would be, although very impactful.

Tony woke me that morning five years ago, saying "Terrorists have flown a plane into the World Trade Center." He'd been reading news on the Internet, as was his habit in the mornings, and saw a trailer across the screen. We sat, stunned along with the rest of America, and watched it happen. Over. And Over. And Over.

Although I went to work, the company let us take the day off. Tony's company did not, and it was only much later that a reasonable explanation was given: it is a huge international company and business and communications would be relying on it even in crisis.

I didn't know anyone personally who died that day, but it haunted my waking and sleeping hours for months, and I cried daily. Tony had spoken in the past with Todd Beamer, an employee colleague, who forever will be remembered by his "Let's roll." Other employees based in the WTC died that day too. It felt personal.

Two of my aunts and their daughters were stranded with my mother in Missouri. They'd come to visit her a few days earlier, and were supposed to fly out on Sept. 11.

I called the girls that morning to see if they'd heard -- and mostly just to hear their voices -- and woke them. Daughter #1 dashed to the radio station where she worked and didn't come home for days: it was nonstop news and more news.

Every time I fly I think of those United and American passengers who boarded that morning thinking of meetings to attend or already over, of reunions anticipated or enjoyed, of vacations long awaited, and the anticipation of going home to loved ones.

I never leave the house anymore without telling my husband that I love him with all my heart.

Life is uncertain. Shattering change can come upon us without notice or preparation. If we have learned nothing else, we must remember this. At the end, all that really matters is love -- love of family, love of friends, that we loved and were loved. Cherish that. Honor that. We may only have this moment to do so.