We should all think of 9/11 as a day when we were all born again. Let our love celebrate the lost lives of those we loved individually and collectively. Let us honor them by having hope prevail over grief, tolerance and love over despair and pain.
My daughter worked in an office tower directly across the street from the World Trade Center I building and went up from the subway to work as the first plane struck. Thankfully, she escaped unharmed, but she witnessed the tower imploding and people leaping from the upper floors. She celebrates those terrible moments by giving to life the best she has to offer, accepting the foibles and humor of living, its hardships and joys, while keeping the living memory of the terrible attack as a test to resist giving in to sorrow or hate or prejudice without delusion or naivety. She measures her strength and success from the refusal to surrender to the horror of that day.