I had just gotten up and started making coffee, when my husband came into the kitchen and told me what happened. (He was an early riser, always up and about before I was).

I was incredulous, even as I walked over to our tv in the livingroom and watched. A second plane had really hit another Tower. I knew immediately who it was, and what it would mean for our countries. I had just moved to Canada 6 months before. I knew immediately the Borders would be shut (indefinitely?) It took about a week for them to re-open, but it was the longest week of my life! I had an aging Dad and a disabled sister I knew I would be cut-off from. It was upsetting and instantly life-changing on so many levels.

But I could not pull myself away from the television, horribly entranced and stuck in a moment.

I had beloved, close friends who worked in Manhattan. I was frantic as I watched everything unfold; the footage made my stomach churn and sent icy chills throughout my body. I was aghast, and a bit in shock for days afterward, frankly.

It turned out somebody I went to school with for years was on the plane that went down in Pennsylvania. I still haven't summoned the courage to check the list of people who dies in the Tower collapses---I might never have the courage to do that.

I know in my heart that so much of what we're looking at today is an effect of what happened on that day. It changed everything.