Next week will be September 11, a hard day for just about every American alive. The day for me is especially painful. I will never forget, as so many of us never will, exactly where I was. I was on I435 on my way to work when the news came over the radio that the first tower was hit. I was in my office when the second hit. At that moment I was glued to the radio, never knowing the call I would receive later that night would drop me to my knees.
I left my office early that day - most of us did. To go home and watch the coverage. I remember sitting glued to the TV tears just flowing as they replayed the plane crashes over and over. Images that are forever burned into my mind now.
I vaguely remember hearing the phone ring. But will never forget the call. I listened as a disconnected voice told me that Craig's brother had been in the first tower. Panic overwhelmed me as this event became even more personal. Anger came from no where. I screamed and fell to my knees. I had seen the coverage, I knew what the chances were of survival, it had been years since I had even uttered anything resembling a prayer. But I prayed for hours that he was still with us and if not by the grace of God please please have let it be quick and as painless as possible.
Chris was the brother I never had. My own personal James Dean. Man I miss you. every once in a while I will swear I hear your voice or see you walking around the corner. I almost scream your name when it hits me your gone. Your future was so bright.
It kills me that I will never see your smile again, hear your laugh when you tease me. I get mad when I think about never being at your wedding, holding your kids and playing Auntie. I know there is a reason for everything, this one I am still searching for.
As the 11th comes near again just like any other time you are never far from my mind. I promise to try not to cry this year, but to celebrate the phenomenal but short life you led. I love and miss you every day.