I still remember that day as if it just happened. I can tell you where I was standing [in front of my mirror blowing drying my hair, watching the news in the reflection of the mirror].
I remember hearing Charlie Gibson saying that a plane had hit the tower.
I remember seeing the second one hit and I remember dropping on the side of my bed in disbelief.
I remember heading to work, not knowing how many other attacks would happen that day. I remember fear for those that I loved who lived in NYC and DC areas. I remember sitting on pins and needles for word of their safety.
I remember when news hit about the Pentagon, and then the plane crashing in PA.
I remember the phone did not ring at work all day. I remember we watched Peter Jennings, as we searched for reasons or explanations why someone would do such a thing.
I remember the cloud, the smoke, the visions of confusion. I remember grown newscasters crying. Shock.
I remember the look on the President's face as he was notified in front of school children he was reading to.
I remember wishing that there was something I could do to help. I remember feeling helpless.
I remember praying.
I remember the days that followed. The lines of family looking for their lost family members. I remember the President addressing the nation, Congress singing God Bless American on the steps of the Congressional Building, and the sense that what was meant for evil would bond the country together.
I remember the strength of our leaders, the grief and loss on the face of Mayor Guiliani, and the loss of NYC's first responders and the funeral's that followed. I remember the courage of those responders, and the courage of those on the plane who attempted to take it back with the infamous words, "let's roll."
I remember clutching my daughter a bit tighter, hugging my family, and being grateful for what I had and thinking that it could all be lost in a blink of an eye, for no apparent reason.