Twenty-five years later, there are details of that day that remain as vivid to me as if they happened yesterday—the sound, the shaking beneath my feet, the smell, the paper floating through that impossibly blue sky, the silence, the tears, and the feeling of my little sister in my arms.

I still think about that seemingly insignificant decision I made that morning—to leave home a little earlier than usual, and then to listen to that feeling telling me not to linger downtown.

And I will never forget hearing my mother’s voice:

“Get out of here NOW!”

Twenty-five years later, I remember.

I remember those who went to work that morning and never came home.

I remember those who ran toward danger to save people they had never met.

I remember the families whose lives changed forever.

And I remain profoundly grateful that on that terrible day, I was able to walk through my front door, hold my little sister in my arms, and tell my sisters:

“I’m alive.”

Perhaps more than anything, that day taught me just how fleeting and fragile life can be.

So don’t hold back. Always try your best. Don’t be afraid to give love—or to receive it. Give everything you’ve got, as though there may be no tomorrow.

Take the bold step. Say the thing you’ve been meaning to say. Reach out to someone in your life who doesn’t expect to hear from you and share a moment of connection today.

Love a little more freely. Live a little more fully.

Pass on the light.

Never forget. 🇺🇸

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