Today is September 11.
Media -- social and otherwise -- will soon be filled with images, remembrances, and tributes, which are painful and sad, but also very very right. It's been 14 years, but we will never forget.
I was in New York that day, heading into work as the second tower was hit. It was exactly as awful as it looked. Probably worse. For many years, I couldn't recount that day without crying. I can talk about it now (most of the time), but I still can't write about it. I doubt I ever will.
But what I can write is this:
My heart overflows when I remember the kindnesses of that day amidst all the devastation. The way strangers came together. The way we were all New Yorkers that day, the whole world over. The world mourned as one, but we also lifted each other up in ways I've never experienced before or since.
The human spirit is vast and immeasurable. And it is strong, even when it is scarred and weary. Just ask a New Yorker.