We all have our anniversaries. Some are personal, some are business, some are generational or institutional like high school and college reunions, and others are national, like Katrina and 9/11, that we all share. 

I can’t help but think of what I was feeling last year after hurricane Katrina when I volunteered my time pro bono to write for the American Red Cross and other relief agencies. The New York Times this morning had an article about those evacuees that came to Atlanta ahead of the storm by choice, and how they have fared better – partly because they had greater resources - than those that ended up in Houston through no choice. I think about interviewing so many of those same folks who sought aid in Gwinnett County, Georgia, who didn’t feel they were lucky. But I noticed their strength, resolve and quick thinking from the stories they told me. Those impressions are indelible. So is the deep sadness I felt then. I tell myself I have to focus on the energy and hope they displayed. Even now it helps me deal with the anger and pain I felt while watching the news and trying to fathom why there were no drops made, of food and water, to families on their rooftops. The tragedy of the government’s response still defies understanding. 

I think those of us watching and helping learned what Katrina evacuees learned right away, we can’t wait for others to help us, no matter how great our trust. We have to be heroes to ourselves, and one another.

We will all relive September 11, soon, too. I am fortunate that I have much to celebrate. My children who live in Manhattan are alive and safe. One was next door to the World Trade Center when it happened. We couldn’t locate him until that afternoon. He made it out but he saw it all; he still won’t talk about it and we don’t pressure him. My daughter was the one who tried to locate her brother. She saw the building in smoke and smelled ash for weeks on the running path along the Hudson. She is fine, too, but the event haunts her. I read about the firemen and rescue personnel who are dying of lung disease and cancer and my heart breaks. Giving their all should not have meant they were giving their lives, too, in the cruelest of injustices.

Every year on September 11, I take the day off to reflect and to write. I grieve for those who died and those who lost loved ones. And I celebrate the survival of my children and all those who escaped the towers. I do this on my birthday, too, if not on that day then another when there is time. It is hard not to compare where we are now in our lives compared to then.

Anniversaries are benchmarks, a time to take stock, generally and specifically. Have we used our time well? Have we accomplished our goals? Have we given of ourselves by mentoring others or learning new skills? Are we interacting and giving back to our communities? Are we part of healthy teams? Are we giving our all? 

You know your goals and whether you have achieved them. Maybe they involve marketing, or fundraising, or strategic planning or promoting a new product. Maybe you are downsizing. Maybe you are satisfied. Maybe you now realize just how much further you have to go.

Yes, anniversaries are opportunities for whatever we want them to be. They can be the perfect occasion for sharing our goals with our clients and prospects, realized or not. They are ours to use as we like. We can see the cup half empty or half full.

I just hope in the weeks ahead we won’t forget to reach out to one another, feel empathy if we previously judged or just didn’t understand, and make one another our focus, our concern, our responsibility and our joy. Compassion and unity are our resources, our life. The evening news – just recently – tells us our lives are filled with terrorism, war, murder, pedophiles, computer batteries that explode, and how many planets there really are. At the end an occasional story is tacked on about someone who is making a difference. Shouldn’t that person be presented as the norm, not the exception?

But look carefully and you’ll see the heroes. They are you and they are me. Closer to the norm than the media would have us believe. They are running for office and initiating new school programs and saving animals in Lebanon and giving money to the Gates Foundation and creating dialogues about AIDS in Africa. In short, they are not waiting. They are acting now. Not because they are forced by catastrophe to become heroes but because they are called to serve in ’everyday’ times, too. Because it makes them feel good and because it’s the right thing to do.

Let’s not forget any of what was or what can still be as we look back on Katrina and 9/11. Those of us who were lucky, let’s give to those who lost so much during these two historic disasters. It is not only in suffering that we connect to one another but in giving, too. Such a union creates community and hope, and makes life ‘real’ for every single last one of us. For the grandfather trapped in the attic, the weary but determined mother wading through the foul water and the newlywed husband beckoning to colleagues to follow him as he peers through the smoke for the stairwell. That’s where life is, with the people, with those who need help at that particular moment in time. With you and with me.