09/12/2026
Yesterday marked 25 years since September 11, 2001.
I wasn’t in New York.
I wasn’t in America.
I didn’t know anyone in those buildings.
But I remember watching it live on television.
I remember seeing the smoke.
I remember the confusion.
I remember watching something so unimaginable happening in real time and struggling to understand what I was seeing.
And then the second plane hit.
Suddenly, it was clear that this wasn’t an accident.
I think that is one of those moments when the world collectively stopped.
Twenty-five years later, what stays with me most isn’t only the horror of that day. It is thinking about the ordinary lives behind the numbers.
People who woke up and went to work.
People who boarded a plane.
Parents who kissed their children goodbye.
Someone who said, “See you tonight.”
Someone who left a coffee unfinished.
Someone whose ordinary Tuesday morning became their last.
2,977 lives were lost.
And behind every one of those lives were families and friends whose world would never be quite the same again.
I wasn’t there.
But like millions of people around the world who watched from thousands of miles away, I remember.
25 years later, we still remember. 🕊️
September 11, 2001. Never forgotten. ❤️
