It seems a lifetime ago that something happened on this day to change the lives of so many people. It's easy to go about daily routine and mundane life and forget the trauma of the past. Yet in so many ways it still touches us now, even without us realizing it. Trawling through an airport today is very different to what it was over ten years ago. In some ways, that's a good thing. That we are more aware now of what aspects of the world can do to us, is a good thing. That we had to suffer such loss and destruction to humanity is, of course, not. September 11th 2001 was so big that nearly everybody has a story to tell. Nearly everybody knows somebody who knows somebody who knows someone who was there, or was nearby, or died. Even more people know a soldier that has since fought in a war born of the events of that day. Loss of life continues even now. For me, the horror was that my Grandparents were on the next plane flying into New York right after the attacks. They were grounded in Canada, evacuated to a disused ice rink of all places. Once they were cleared by security, some eight hours later, they were adopted by locals. Locals who they've been friends with ever since. They spent several days there without luggage, medication or really any clue of what was happening. But they were alive. At the time, we were in the midst of a family disagreement. I was only eleven years old, I only knew that my parents weren't talking to my grandparents. Events such as that served to bring people closer, mend bridges and build relationships. A wake up call, of sorts. I go about my year not considering the implications if fate had intervened differently. Yet on this day each year, I remember. I am grateful for our luck that day and saddened by so many who weren't as fortunate. I am thankful. But I am humbled.