At my house we are entering another senior year. As a senior years go, I consider myself fairly experienced. I’ve relished in and endured a handful so far (if we’re counting my own and my husband’s). And that’s only high school. College is another story. But this senior year is special, and not just because my last and final child is (hopefully) graduating in the spring. This senior year is special because of what happened to all of us 18 years ago. It was September 2001. The eleventh day of the month, to be exact. Most of us woke up like it ...