Always the bittersweet of this day. 12 years ago walking to my office opposite the Plaza Hotel, I heard the awful news and then saw from my window on the 45th floor the plumes of smoke and watched the collapse from afar. The day was spent worrying and praying for friends, all of whom were found, none of whom were ever the same. But 11 years ago, I became a mother. Just as the hospital was holding a moment of silence for the collapse of the first tower, my girl arrived - right fist first - as if to say, “I’m here! And the world will never be the same again.” Indeed, no it will not. I smile and laugh each year until she goes to school. And then I weep at my kitchen table and listen to the names being read.