10.

Ten years ago I was 10. On this day, I was sitting in science class as my teacher explained the workings of a microscope, waiting anxiously to look into one myself.

I was called out of class as the scopes were being set up on tables and my mother was there waiting and told me I had a doctors appointment. I knew I didn't.

I don't remember much of what happened during the ride to get my sister from her school. Just that my mom told me something bad had happened and planes had hit the Twin Towers in New York City--not too far away from our seemingly safe Connecticut.

My sister, mom and I turned on the television to watch the images of planes hitting buildings more times than I can count. The programming was same video footage replaying and replaying and replaying and reporters that somehow managed to stay calm despite the pandemonium.

9/11 brought grief and heartache and a sense of panic that still peers over us everyday. The United States followed its name that day as the country came together for support and tried to grasp the magnitude of what was done to us. Even though the terrorists directly materially hit the East, they dug into EVERYONE's heart and tore out a piece.

This morning as I sat and watched the commemorative news shows, my arms were dotted with little raised bumps. The idea of all those people hurting made me sick to my stomach but the knowledge that everyone can come together makes it better.

As several presidents lined up at the memorial this morning, fear struck me. What would happen now? Talk of possible terrorist attacks today has led me to be on my toes, knowing that it is possible for someone terrible to take our country and knock it down again.

It's hard to believe that it's been 10 years.

Ten years of life has gone on and by so quickly and memorably.

Ten years ago, we got the shock of our lives and today, we remember, but never forget.