Most of you probably remember where you were on 9/11. So much so that I don’t even need to write the date out in a proper format.

The current and massive spate of remembrance articles, media, blogs, documentaries and news specials are probably rekindling your memories in case you have forgotten. But more than recalling where you were, I am sure a lot of your memories are about the mental stages you went through that day.

For me, I was driving from a client off-site in Muskoka, down to Toronto. Probably like you, when I heard the news of a plane crashing into the World Trade Centre, my instincts were why the heck was a plane flying over New York. Not being near a TV I thought it was a small plane.

In moments my anxiety grew when I heard that not only was it a jetliner, but that the other tower had also been hit. Suddenly my idyllic world was shattered. The World War that I hoped my generation, and that of my children, would never have to face seemed suddenly upon us. I looked skyward from my convertible to see if we too were under attack. I worked my phone constantly to ensure my wife was safe in a downtown office tower and that our warehouse near the Toronto airport was as well.

Across the world we all wondered. Who would fly planes into buildings? Why would firemen run into burning buildings? How many people were dead?

For thousands of victims’ relatives, thoughts turned to hopes for a miracle. Pictures, posters and signs of missing, went up in some unrealistic hope they might result in a loved one being found. Perhaps wandering the streets in some sort of trance, when in reality their physical being had been obliterated.

Stories emerged of people on their first day of work, last day of work, second last day of work, that died. More emerged about people visiting the WTC that day for meetings. Others about people who missed those meetings. Men, women and children on flights who were hijacked. Stewardesses whose remains included bound hands, who while scared, probably thought their commandeered vessel was simply being taken to a ransom location. Who could have imagined?

Quickly we were learning new words. Taliban, Al Qaeda. Bin Laden. Who? Why? Didn’t these people attack the World Trade Centre before?

How did terrorists board planes by paying cash just minutes before takeoff with no luggage? Did this not sound any alarms? How did they get through with box cutters on their bodies? What sort of panic erupted in the passenger cabins when unsuspecting passengers suddenly had their throats cut as the terrorists leveraged shock to gain the upper hand on the crew?

In weeks and months war plans were made and remade. Suddenly we were chasing ghosts in Afghanistan and Pakistan. Oddly Iraq was now in the sightlines, if for no other reason than to really repay an old Bush family grudge.

The blood of innocent Americans, Canadians and civilians from other countries, was now being replaced by the blood of soldiers who never imagined going to war. Innocent people were killed in the subways of London. Other innocents were killed by British police who thought they were terrorists, but in fact were just illegal immigrants from Brazil.

Over time these wars, and skirmishes and hunts, have probably claimed more lives than the hijacked planes. I don’t truly care if that’s an accurate fact or not. This isn’t a score I want to remember.

Almost on cue for the tenth anniversary, Bin Laden was found and killed. Or at least that’s what we have been told. How many billions did that ten-year hunt cost? Was killing him the correct tactic or should he have been tried in public? I want to know how this incredibly rich and seemingly intelligent man, became one of the most evil on earth? The pictures of him as a teen traveling to Europe with his extended family are more haunting to me than his jihad videos.

At the time of 9/11 I am sure we all told ourselves to enjoy life to its fullest. Build relationships we have let slip. Get in shape. Work harder. Work lesser.

At the time of 9/11 we probably thought things couldn’t get worse. Tell that to people in Japan, Sweden, Thailand, Haiti, Somalia, and Louisiana, who have suffered earthquakes, mass murder, tsunamis, more earthquakes, famine and flood.

At the time of 9/11 we probably celebrated our prosperity. But today the U.S. is bankrupt and doesn’t know it’s controlled by China and Russia. But today, Europe can’t make sense of its currency to save itself.

At the time of 9/11 we probably said only the important things in life will get us riled up. But then we riot over Stanley Cup losses, suspected police brutality in the U.K., or to protest governments that want to bring economic controls on pampered societies like in Greece.

In many ways it is sad. Tragedy struck, we said we would change. Become better. Have we? Perhaps in ways I have overlooked.

Let’s remember 9/11 and more importantly the promises we made to ourselves, our family, our country, to do better. Let’s use this anniversary to individually do one small act to make the world a better place. Donate to Somalia. Go for a run. Thank the family of a fallen Canadian soldier who came “home” along the Highway of Heroes.

Let’s make Sunday, “Remembrance Day.”