What 25 Years Can Teach Us About Time, Survival and Living Now

Twenty five years.

It’s hard to believe it has been that long since September 11, 2001.

And I remember exactly where I was.

I was working for the Memphis Grizzlies, and we were in a sales meeting. When we came out, everyone was gathered around a television trying to understand what was happening.

There were no smartphones giving us updates every few seconds. We stood around that television, speechless.

People were trying to call loved ones who might be affected. A lot of calls weren’t going through.

I cried that day.

I’ve cried many days since thinking about the horror of what happened, the lives lost, the families forever changed, but also the incredible heroism of people who risked their own lives to help others.

But there was something none of us standing around that television could see that day.

What would happen next.

Some things don’t end when the moment is over

Twenty five years later, we know that September 11 didn’t end on September 11 for thousands of people.

First responders ran toward buildings when everyone else was trying to get away. Recovery workers spent days, weeks and months at the sites. People lived, worked and went to school in areas affected by the dust and debris.

And years later, many faced cancer and other serious health conditions associated with their exposure.

According to the CDC’s World Trade Center Health Program, as of March 31, 2024, 20,909 responders and 17,971 survivors had cancer certifications through the program. The federal program continues to provide monitoring and treatment for people with health conditions related to their 9/11 exposure.

Think about that.

People survived the day.

Then, for some, another battle came years later.

I don’t think I would have understood the weight of that in quite the same way 25 years ago.

I do now.

Because the day before this 25th anniversary of September 11 marked another anniversary for me.

One year since my breast cancer surgery.

The two experiences aren’t comparable. My cancer was not related to September 11, and I would never suggest that what I experienced was the same as what those survivors, responders and families have endured.

The connection for me is time.

One year. Twenty five years.

Yesterday, I was thinking about what can happen in one year.

Today, I’m thinking about what can happen in 25.

Twenty five years ago, I was standing around a television watching something happen that would change thousands of lives forever.

I had no idea what the next 25 years would bring for the people I was watching.

I certainly had no idea what those years would bring for me.

That’s how life works.

We know what’s happening right now.

We don’t always know what this moment will mean five, ten or 25 years from now.

Sometimes the hardest part comes immediately.

Sometimes it comes years later.

Sometimes we survive something and spend years figuring out who we are because of it.

And sometimes what happened to us becomes the very reason we finally decide to live differently.

That’s what cancer did for me.

Surviving made me look at how I was living

Cancer changed my relationship with time.

It made me look at what I kept saying I would do “one day.”

Where did I want to go?

How did I really want to live?

What was I waiting for?

Why was I waiting?

Those questions are part of the reason I’m exploring living in different places now. I’m not doing it in spite of cancer.

I’m doing it, in many ways, because of cancer.

Cancer reminded me that being alive and really living aren’t necessarily the same thing.

And that’s where this becomes about you, too.

You don’t need a diagnosis or a tragedy to decide that your time matters.

Maybe you’ve been postponing something because you’re waiting for the perfect time.

Maybe you’ve convinced yourself you’ll pursue the goal when life settles down.

Maybe you need to make the appointment you’ve been putting off.

Maybe you need to call someone.

Maybe you need to forgive someone.

Maybe you need to stop giving so much of your life to something that doesn’t deserve it.

Maybe you simply need to appreciate an ordinary day while you have one.

What will the next 25 years look like?

Twenty five years ago, thousands of people woke up expecting an ordinary Tuesday.

That’s something I can’t get away from.

Most life changing moments don’t send an announcement first.

They interrupt ordinary days.

And when they do, there is often a before and an after.

September 11 created a before and an after for our country and for countless families.

Cancer created one for me.

Your defining moment may be completely different.

But here’s what I hope you don’t miss:

You don’t have to wait for something terrible to happen before you decide to value your life.

Look at your life now.

Are you living it, or mostly planning to live it later?

Are you taking care of yourself?

Are you spending time with people you love?

Are you pursuing what matters to you?

Are you allowing fear, excuses or other people’s opinions to consume years you can’t get back?

Twenty five years can sound like a very long time.

Until you look back and realize how quickly it passed.

So today, I remember those who died on September 11.

I honor the people who ran toward danger to help others.

And I also remember the people whose battles came later. The responders and survivors who went on to face cancers and other illnesses related to their exposure, and the families who have carried those battles with them.

Yesterday, I celebrated one year.

Today, we remember 25.

And both remind me of something I don’t want to forget again:

Time is precious.

Don’t wait for life to prove it to you.

S.O. What! Now what?

What is one thing you’ve been putting off that you know it’s time to do?

Start there.

Then do it.

Learn More

If you’re navigating a major change, rebuilding your confidence or trying to figure out your own “now what,” explore more resources from Summer Owens at summerowens.com.

For information about the continuing health effects of September 11, visit the CDC’s World Trade Center Health Program.