Seven years later, September 11th is still a day I'll never forget. I was at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center (FLETC), sitting in on a class I was scheduled to co-teach in a month with another instructor.

My hotel was on St. Simon's Island, about a thirty minute drive to the Academy. My flight arrived the day before, giving me plenty of time to check in on base, fill out the necessary paperwork, and pick up my FLETC badge. Because I wasn't on a time schedule and didn't need to check in, I took a leisurely drive to FLETC, enjoying the marshland and ocean breeze as I drove across the bridge. It was a clear day and I remember being so glad to get away from the hustle and bustle of my office that I didn't even turn the radio on in the car. With the windows down, I approached the guard shack feeling excited about my new opportunity.

It was about 9:13a.m. and the guard was overly cautious. He radioed into the administration building, examined my badge longer than usual, and told me he needed to get clearance to let me in. A bit puzzled, I didn't think too much of it, as some of the guards were a bit overzealous in their jobs, or so I thought. It took him about five minutes to return, and I thought, "What in the world is he doing?" When he finally returned, he gave me the 'okay' to proceed but also stated that I would be the last car allowed in. I had no idea what he was talking about and just smiled and waved. I remember being very happy that morning.

I drove to my classroom, parked the car in the faculty parking area, and thought, "This is living." FLETC was like a second home to me, and I was excited to be part of helping deliver curriculum in the leadership program for new supervisors. As I walked down the hall to my classroom, two of the instructors were in the hall and they greeted me with open arms. We hugged and hugged, and I was enjoying my welcome, happy to see them as well. After a minute or two of niceties, one of the instructors said she was so glad to see me because she had been worried about me all morning. I asked her why she was worried, and she said, "You mean you haven't heard?" With a puzzled look, I asked, "Heard what?"

I looked at the clock. It was 9:22a.m., and I remember feeling sick to my stomach. Plane? Terrorist? What? I walked over to the snack bar to see it for myself on TV. I honestly didn't believe them. When I got back to the classroom, my mind was racing. I couldn't process the instruction or any of the announcements. I stepped out of the class and into the hall. And then my phone rang. It was my partner in New Jersey. He told me my mentor was missing. He had gone into the building to rescue others and hadn't come out.

I felt as if I was an outsider looking in at my own life in slow motion. I couldn't believe that all of this was happening. Why? What did it all mean?

Two hours later, the Director of FLETC made an announcement to our class that we could go home for the rest of the day and classes would resume the next morning. As I drove back to my hotel in a fog, I still couldn't believe that this was happening. I turned on the TV and watched as the planes flew into the World Trade Center again and again, each time hoping that I would finally understand why. I tried to work and couldn't. I was truly in shock.

Over the course of several hours, I received phone calls from family members, friends, and acquaintances from days past, all inquiring about my safety. Many of them knew that we had offices at the World Trade Center and that I would work there from time to time. As I told my story over and over, it was as if I was playing a recording, emotionless and on auto pilot. The next morning, I received another call from my former partner, telling me that my mentor had died. I was in disbelief but had no more tears left to cry.

It took days to get a flight back home. All of the airports in my area were closed. While many people were now afraid to fly and were renting cars and driving across the country, I was looking forward to flying. I guess it was my way of saying to the terrorists, "You didn't win." When I arrived in Philadelphia on Saturday afternoon, my body ached for normalcy. Driving over the bridge to my apartment, I realized normal would never be normal again. The two towers that stood tall and greeted me every morning on my way to work and every evening as I drove back home were gone. Two pillars of smoke drifted eerily in their place.

When I finally got back to work, I worked weeks and weeks of 16 hour days as part of my agency's mission to secure our nation's borders. There were too many funerals and the gruesome duty of sending employees to search for the remains of those who had passed. I remember being too exhausted to eat and too tired to sleep.

When things started to settle down and I had time to reflect on all that had happened -- the assault on my country, the loss of my mentor, and all of the fear and sorrow that I witnessed and experienced in the following days, weeks, and months -- I realized that my life would never be the same again. Everything changed that day:
My relationships, my job responsibilities, my uniform, my agency and its mission, and my sense of gratitude.

Being grateful and stating my "I AM" is more than a new age wonder for me. It is one of the biggest parts of Upside Living -- being grateful for the great and small, the people I've met and places I've been, and that which is to come, the deep sorrows and incredible joys. I AM grateful for it all.

This September 11th, I close on my beautiful new house in Coral Gables, Florida . With every end, there is a bright new beginning. And it is now that I look upon it all with gratitude.