We were on our honeymoon.

On our way to New York City, actually. We were still in Canada, but planned to cross the border that day and head off on the photography lover's roadtrip of our lives.

We were staying with my best friend's parents, and her mom came barreling through the hallway and pounded on the door. "Someone's bombing The States and Detroit's been hit!" (Chinua is from Detroit.) With this garbled message in our ears we leapt out of bed and watched the footage that everyone else was watching.

And watched it again. And again.

It seemed like the end of so many things. After our wedding we had a brief two days of bliss and then the reality of what we are dealing with in life really hit home. People died. I couldn't handle the thought of not seeing Chinua again, and I felt crushed with sorrow over all the people who were missing, all the lives that were robbed.

I remember where we were, and I remember how we felt, how I had a panic attack in Portland because the skyline seemed to loom. Many people today are remembering where they were, and how they were feeling, and their memories include losing a person they loved. My prayers go out for you. I'm so, so sorry for your loss.