I will never forget 9/11. September 11, 2001 was a beautiful fall day. The sun was shining, and the sky was a brilliant blue. It was the kind of morning that felt completely ordinary. Then, so many things shattered.
I was working as a consultant in New York City. I had worked in both the North and South Towers. I had even been in the subbasement, where the reflecting pools now stand. I knew too many people who died that day.
I was supposed to begin another consulting engagement that week. A series of events kept me away from New York that morning. For years, I carried survivor’s guilt and was even afraid to say, “I was supposed to be there that day.” But some of what I felt was also fear. I had a young son, and suddenly the world no longer felt safe.
Twenty-five years later, I understand that Never Forget is about more than remembering what happened. It is also about asking what we do with what we remember.
The Life That Changed
The week before September 11, my son and I had flown home from Florida. His father and stepmother had proposed moving there. I finally agreed, thinking we had a year to make the transition. I had agreed because it was what they wanted, and I was accustomed to making myself fit into other people’s plans.
September 11 changed that timeline. Within a month, I was unemployed and living in Florida. I started over completely. I made new friends and returned to real estate instead of consulting. I was trying to make myself fit in anywhere, but it did not work. I failed because I was changing everything around me without changing what needed to change inside me.
Looking back, I can see something I couldn’t see then. The change wasn’t really about my career. It was about me. I needed to stop looking for validation outside myself. I needed to trust my intuition and heal wounds from childhood. Perhaps I would have been a better mother if I had spent less time trying to figure myself out.
Where the Real Work Began
In the aftermath of September 11, the real work of my spiritual journey began. Not because the tragedy happened for a reason, and not because loss can ever be redeemed by a lesson. In its aftermath, I had to face what I had been carrying, avoiding, and leaving unhealed.
Loss is still loss. People died, families were changed forever, and an entire country carried that day forward. I could not remain the same person I had been before it.
Over time, I also came to understand that accountability belongs to all of us. We see systems that aren’t working for the majority of people. We see racism, classism, division, and an increasing sense of “us versus them”. We can point toward government and institutions, and sometimes we should. But accountability cannot stop there.
It belongs to me, too. It asks me to examine where I remain silent, where I seek comfort instead of truth, and where I expect someone else to fix what I am unwilling to confront myself. That kind of reckoning is uncomfortable. Comfort can make honesty harder.
Over the years, my voice has gotten louder. I have found the courage to speak out and engage with people regularly. I ask questions. I challenge things that don’t feel right. That voice didn’t arrive all at once. I grew into it.
What Does “Never Forget” Mean?
So what does Never Forget mean to me? It means remembering that beautiful fall morning. It means remembering the brilliant blue sky and the extraordinary loss that came beneath it. Most importantly, it means remembering the people who never came home.
It also means remembering how quickly everything can change. We don’t always get to choose what happens to us. We do get to choose what we do with what happens. Survival carries responsibility, even when we never asked for it.
I think about the woman I was on September 10, 2001. Of all the things I could tell her—to make her richer, more successful, or more secure—I would tell her one thing: Call George.
I know something now that I could not have known then. In the darkest moments of our lives since that day, we have been a comfort and a strength to one another. It took us until 2017 to understand it, but I love the life we have together now. I love what we built, even if it took us a long time to find our way there.
I sometimes wonder what might have happened if we had strengthened our friendship then. But I also know the past cannot be changed, and wondering can only take us so far. What matters is recognizing what eventually grew between us. None of us knows which ordinary moments will eventually become important.
That is one of the strange things about life. We rarely understand the significance of a moment while we are living it.
In beauty, there is loss. In loss, there is beauty.
Twenty-five years later, I don’t need to explain September 11 to remember it. I need to remember the people. I need to remember the fear. I need to remember the woman I was and the woman I became.
Most of all, I need to remember that I am still here.
What I do with that is my responsibility.
About Me
Colleen Irwin is a psychic medium, teacher, and author who helps women navigate their Second Season of Life with clarity and confidence. Through Mediumship Development, Tarot, and spiritual mentoring, she guides women to trust their intuition and step forward into life’s next chapter
Rev. Colleen Irwin
Founder & Author
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