Tara Feinberg holds the helmet of lost firefighter dad Alan. She says she's begun "exploring new opportunities" because "life is short." The New York Post Tara Feinberg always had a very special bond with her firefighter dad. She glowed with pride at his heroic efforts to save lives. And at the same time, she knew of the terrible dangers it involved. Her worst fears were realized when Alan Feinberg, of Battalion 9 in Manhattan, raced to the World Trade Center disaster - and died helping others get out alive. Last year before the tragedy, when she was 17, Tara wrote a heartfelt essay about her dad for her college application to the University of Florida in Gainesville, which she now attends. The Post published that essay shortly after 9/11, and its poignancy touched many of our readers. Now, a year after 9/11, Tara looks back on her life since she lost her dad. She reveals her thoughts in an interview with The Post's Bill Hoffmann. THEY say that time heals all wounds, but in my case, things are only beginning to sink in. On Sept. 11, I lost my wonderful father, Alan Feinberg, who was a firefighter stationed at Battalion 9 in Midtown. When dad died a hero last year, I was just beginning my freshman year at school, and it was hard to comprehend a lot of what was going on. But it all really hit me over the past few months, when the father I had spent so many wonderful summers with, who I admired and loved so much, was no longer around. I'm back at school now and trying to cope with so many feelings. People who have never been to New York ask me what our great city is like, and I'm still proud to tell them: New York is my home, and I love it. And it's true. I can still walk into dad's old firehouse and feel completely at home. In some ways, I feel I grew up there. The firefighters are my family. They have always been there for me and still are. I love sitting down with the guys who worked with my dad and hearing all these funny stories - like when my dad put salad dressing in somebody else's shampoo and he used it a whole month. Thinking about the World Trade Center is a bit tougher to take. I walk around the city now and look up at the skyline, and it's often hard to figure out where it was. And it's unnerving to think about my mother's long history with the Twin Towers. She had worked at Cantor Fitzgerald, the company that lost so many employees, for 17 years, but left her position in 1999. To think that she could have been in there when it happened is almost too horrible to comprehend. People have asked me if I do things differently since 9/11. If anything, I'll find myself doing some things that I might not have before, and I'll say things that before might have gone unsaid. I think about taking more chances, exploring new opportunities. Life is short, and you never know. But I don't feel scared of the world. If you don't live your life to the fullest, then the terrorists win. But I've decided I won't be taking any classes at school that deal with the Sept. 11 attacks. I'm going to avoid that for a while because it's still too uncomfortable to hear people discussing it. And sometimes if I hear someone making an insensitive, off-the-cuff remark about the tragedy, something stupid, it can really sting. It's unbelievable what some people say. They talk about the money and who deserves it and things like that, and it can be so tough to take. Your eyes start to water up. I think of my dad every day. At my home in the New Jersey suburbs, there's a constant reminder, with all of the pictures and the memories of things we used to do. He is everywhere. His presence is missed. But when I come into Manhattan, I think of him all the time, too. In New York, I'm reminded of how he loved this city, how he died in it. Every second. Another constant reminder of the tragedy is the fact that everybody wears Fire Department T-shirts. They are everywhere now. You can even go to Bloomingdale's and buy them. It's funny because nobody really cared that much about the firefighters before this happened. It's like, this is what it took for them to get the recognition that they have always deserved. People are also sometimes at a loss at knowing what to say to me or even whether they should speak to me at all. Some will come right up and start a conversation and ask me questions. Then I've found that others will avoid me because they really don't know what to say. There is an awkward silence. I've done a number of fun things this summer that I won't forget. I was able to attend the world premiere of "Mr. Deeds" and met Adam Sandler. He wore an FDNY T-shirt and was really nice. But despite my love for New York City and the fact that my father loved it, too, I'm not really a city girl. I think I can definitely love New York, always, but I just can't live in it. I know my father would understand that.

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