The events of the past week have etched in my mind, heart and soul how different life is since the early hours of Sept. 11. My worries and struggles seem so trivial compared to those people directly affected by the terror we all watched unfold in New York and Washington.
As horrific as it was to see symbols of this great nation damaged or destroyed, it was the loss of precious lives that stirs so many emotions in America and across the world.
In this age of technology, we witnessed men and women calling their families minutes before they perished, to tell them how much they loved them. Those things will remain with me and have changed my life far more than the scarred skyline of New York City.
I will never understand the wrath brought forth by people who have so much hatred for America and all we stand for, that they will sacrifice their own lives to show it.
What I do understand is that every time I now board a jet, hear a siren or hold my son in my arms, I will be reminded of how my life is different. The plane will remind me of fear, the siren of heroism and my son of love, and how precious life is.