Last week I visited the September 11 Memorial for the first time with my mom, sister, cousin, and my sister’s friend. My cousin, visiting France, was the reason for the trip. He was interested and wanted to see the memorial. I am pretty sure it would have taken me another 5+ years to go without his, and my mother’s, prodding.

I vividly remember September 11, 2001. I remember my teacher running out of the classroom, and my dad crying at the dinner table. I remember friends losing parents, and my dad describing watching the towers fall from his office windows. I was young, but I remember.

I am lucky in that I did not lose anyone close to me. My hometown is a commuter community and many of my peers were not as fortunate.

When we entered the memorial we started walking around the first ‘pool’ reading names. About 3/4 of the way around we saw a row of kiosks that no one was at. Curious, we went over. The poorly labeled stations were there to help people find loved ones names. You could type in a name, employer, or flight number and the machine would print out a map with where they are marked on it.

We found a classmate of my sister’s father, her friend’s family friend, and a man who my mom went to grade school with. As we searched for their names I saw, scattered throughout, names followed by “and her unborn child.” It was sad and sobering to find our friends and acquaintances. However, what hit me hardest were the names of women who died as they prepared to bring new life into the world.

Life is a magical thing and, as these women and thousands of others experienced, it can be taken away suddenly and without warning. Visiting the Memorial was hard but, I believe, worth it. If all that I take away is that I am blessed to have been able to experience so much already in so little time, that is enough. It is all about having perspective.