I saw the replay of the first plane before we knew it was a plane, and then watched live as the events unfolded in what was our home just seven months previously. We heard about people getting water at the church where we had our premarital counseling. We realized just how "close" everything was, as my husband's former employer was stationed in the Empire State Building (could it be another target that day?) and his boss had a meeting scheduled at the World Trade Center for later in that morning (would he and my husband have gone over early for a cup of coffee?)

When our tiny son awakened, we put him in his large play yard, just to the left of the TV. He could probably see the dark images of his birthplace, but of course it wouldn't make sense to him. Instead, jingly toys and funny figures caught his attention and prompted giggles. (These days our 5th grader loves to wear New York City T-shirts to celebrate his origins, even if he hasn't been back since February of 2001. And yes, he knows what happened ten years ago.)

My cousin was caught in middle America. (Thank goodness my husband wasn't caught on the other side of the country, which would have been his original plan's result.) A friend emailed me that afternoon to say he had gotten in contact with another friend who saw the clouds of ash as she ascended the stairway in the subway. During that day and the next several, I corresponded with people I hadn't seen in decades. We are fine.

I drove over the Bay Bridge that night, wondering if it might be a target. I passed the closed SFO airport. Eerie. In the weeks that followed, I ended up taking care of the children of one of the victims at a preschool co-op. I watched as the Skyrink where I used to play hockey became a morgue. I saw a former graduate school classmate interviewed about how he couldn't find his fiancee.

I recently read and thoroughly enjoyed a book called What Alice Forgot, in which the protagonist loses ten years of her memory. Imagine waking up thinking you are 29, but discovering you are 39 and the world has been marching along for ten years? Of course this book made me think a great deal about my own life: the choices I've made, and how quickly - and yet adventure-packed - a decade goes by.

So much has happened in the past ten years.

That young mother who awakened to "Oh my God!" is very much in the past. Although 9/11 created feelings of vulnerability, they didn't really "stick" until just the past few years, when my youngest son had a couple accidents and my dad had unexpected bypass surgery. Ten years ago, that risk-taking son didn't yet exist, and of course my daddy was invincible.

In 2001, and the year that followed, we experienced or witnessed loss. Since we moved from New York to the San Francisco Bay area, and my husband had lived in D.C., we knew people on both coasts who were affected, greatly affected. Meanwhile, the mother of the bride at that wedding my husband attended right before 9/11 died suddenly just days later. And a few months later, my husband would lose a close friend in an avalanche.

Every year in the past decade has had some sort of struggle or life lesson. After all, that is what life is about.

But when I ponder the last ten years specifically, it is shocking just how much has shaped my impressions, relationships, expectations, and fears. That would be true whether or not 9/11 had happened, but of course that day set in motion a string of events that has affected us all.

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Disclaimer: The book I mention is just something I enjoyed. After all, as a person approaching 40 myself, the loss of a decade of memories is a thought-provoking consideration. I will not receive any sort of commission should someone purchase the book, nor did I receive compensation for mentioning it. Rather, the book tied in well with the theme of looking back on 9/11.