On this day every year, I'm always quieter. The sun never shines like it usually does. Everything just drags on. I always remember that day vividly, without any problem.
I've never met anybody who had a family member or a friend in the towers. I did. I had two, in fact. I remember all day my family trying to call over and over and not getting anywhere. Family around here called each other all day to see if anyone had heard. It was terrifying. It was unreal.
The next day was when we got the email from my dad's cousin Dave. He worked in the North tower and his wife Marie, worked in the South tower. The subject read "We're okay". The best two words ever read.
Our family was so VERY lucky. Dave had worked at Cantor Fitzgerald on the 105th floor of the North tower, but had moved to another office building a few days before. Marie had gotten out despite being told to go back to her office on the 26th floor of the South Tower after the North tower was hit.
I still can't believe I was in New York only two weeks before. I still cringe when I watch the footage they play ever year. I don't want to, but I can't keep myself from not watching.
My family was very blessed that day. We didn't lose them.
But I always think about the ones who did.
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