25 years. I can’t believe it.

9/11 feels like such a poignant memory in my life. It feels both as though 25 years have passed and as though it happened just yesterday. I can remember so many specific details of that day. It should have been a normal Tuesday, but instead, our entire world changed.

2,977 lives were lost 25 years ago today, and the horror of that day still replays in my mind.

I was in seventh grade at the time, and we were living in Southern California, in a suburb of Los Angeles. My dad was on a business trip in Copenhagen.

I had slept in bed with my mom that night and had forgotten to turn off the alarm. When it went off, she went into her room to turn off the radio alarm and heard that the White House was being evacuated. She came running into the living room, where I was getting ready for school, and told me to turn on the TV.

We saw that the first tower had already been hit, and we watched as the second tower was struck live. I can still remember my mom’s anguished cries of disbelief and the fear of not knowing when we would see my dad again.

I remember my mom calling the school to tell them I wouldn’t be coming in because all of the flights were originally bound for LAX. We didn’t know whether we were in harm’s way or what might happen next.

I remember seeing things falling from the towers and the horror of realizing that they were people jumping.

I remember seeing the newscasters lose their composure as they reacted to the tragedy on camera.

I remember watching the towers fall, collapsing in on themselves as we sat in shocked silence.

I remember sitting in our home office, reading emails from my dad and listening to my parents talk about how they would find a way for him to come home with all airspace closed. I remember the conversations about whether he would need to take a boat, fly into Canada and drive, or how he would ever feel comfortable getting on an airplane again.

I remember eating corn on the cob and a slice of bread for dinner because my mom felt too shocked to cook anything else.

I remember when flights finally resumed and my dad was on one of the very first United flights. I remember the absolute fear of wondering whether he would make it and praying for his safety.

I remember him telling us that both Heathrow and LAX were absolute ghost towns.

In the weeks that followed, I remember every channel being filled with coverage of 9/11 and wondering if anything would ever feel “normal” again.

I remember every car displaying American flags in its windows and the sense of unity that spread across our nation.

I remember then. I remember now.

9/11. Never Forget.