During our lengthy Up North hikes, I stepped on and quickly learned to spot and then, avoid stepping on — these baby Hemlocks.

I found them to be life affirming and very comforting … that these deep, ancient forests of ours, they are alive and thriving, as are we … life abounds, in all things.

And one day, these little ones, they’ll be hundreds of feet high … growing and changing, against all the elements and odds.

Elements and odds of things like the 11th day of September, 2001.

I think we all know where we were and that time literally stopped as we all held our collective breaths and cried our collective cries.

It starts as all days start, doesn’t it. A gorgeous, early September morning. Blacksburg was calling for a high of 81. I was living in the DDD house, trying to wake up. It was 8:15.

By 8:30, my roommate and I were glued to the tv, such confusion. I frantically started calling … T.C. was my first call. His D.C. lawyerness would set things straight. But there was nothing to set straight and his voice betrayed what he knew.

I will never forget the images of those who jumped out windows, those who roamed what looked like bombed third world streets carrying pictures of husbands and wives, children and grandchildren. Hoping.

I know it’s not enjoyable to remember these things, but yet, it is important. This is what re-minds us. Brings us back. And ultimately, brings us together.

That’s what I was most moved and still am with September 11th — the absolute outpouring of love. That brief moment of unity where I think we all knew on a cellular level, we are here together. What do these silly things matter that we get so worked up and pitted against each other about?

It’s nothing, in this big picture of life. Who cares what someone else’s political views are or if they’re Republican or Democrat … we all became people as people, looking at each other with new eyes.

That is what I don’t want to forget.

Horrible things happen. They just do. But from the terror and pain, there is a love and growth … a power that comes forth.

Being at Virginia Tech 11 years ago today, I was too restless. I couldn’t stay put. Probably like much of you … I had to do something. So I got in the car and drove home.

I needed to feel Maman’s arms around me, see that TC was okay and show my support for those of us we knew who worked at and had lost loved ones at The Pentagon.

The Pentagon. I didn’t want to, but something had me drive by. The streets surrounding were closed off, but I found a place not far, off 395. Admist all the rubble and just plain disaster, I stood there, sobbing. Not being able to tear my eyes away from the sight of those halogen bulbs and the dust floating in mid air.

And through the gaping whole in the building, my eyes caught sight of our flag. It wasn’t big, like the one that was placed there a few days later … this one reminded me of the standard school flag found in classrooms. Just dangling there.

Saying and symbolizing everything I needed it to.

There will always be problems and tragedy will always strike, but we will survive, as we always have. We will be okay.

And so the little baby hemlocks … these tiny little babies just starting out that will grow, despite being stepped on, and against all weather conditions and a whole host of other things, they will become towering and strong and unshakable, nurturing and fostering other life to continue …

I like to compare us to them and them to us … so we rebuild and we carry on and become stronger and more together now than we ever were before.

That’s what I hope, at least.