Reflections of a 9/11 Spouse

When a passenger plane carrying 87 people from Boston was deliberately flown by five al-Quaeda hijackers into Tower One of the World Trade Center at 8:46 a.m. September 11, 2001, my husband was standing behind his desk on the 68th floor.

He was knocked to the floor by the impact.

Right now as I type this, he's sitting next to me on the family sofa. We're watching the 1995 docudrama Apollo 13, one of Greg's favorite movies. It's a story of survival, of an American triumph against great odds. (The photo here was taken by Apollo 13 as it returned to Earth after orbiting the Moon)

Our 15-year-old is at a buddy's house, playing Dungeon and Dragons and our 12-year-old son is upstairs, having gone to bed after watching a Doctor Who episode with us on BBC America.

Despite the inexplicable, undeserved blessing of still having my husband in my and our children's lives, I have had tears running down my face all evening. Understand: Greg and I do not take a moment of our lives together for granted; we are conscious and grateful every day for the extra time he was given. And yet, he understands and doesn't ask about my tears.

Every year as the anniversary of the attacks approaches, the two of us are overwhelmed with sadness. That sadness at the lives lost persists despite therapy, pastoral counseling, prayer, exercise regimes and making sure we make the most of every moment of our lives.

We have come to believe very strongly not only in raising our boys to be young men of integrity, but also in offering what gifts we have to serve others, to do what we can to make this earth a place of loving kindness.

My husband finds a lot of satisfaction in founding and running a summer basketball league as a community volunteer. Every summer, dozens of boys benefit from the time he volunteers on the court. There is no fee to participate and this activity gives boys something structured to do on long summer days and evenings. I now work as a teacher, having gone back to school for a master's degree in special education. Our younger son struggles with learning disabilities and I really have developed a heart for struggling learners.

Still, despite our efforts, nothing we do on our own will heal us. We are human and we are weak. We cling to Christ, the source of our being.

Tonight's evening prayers from the Liturgy of the Hours includes this:

Christ our Lord is mindful of all who need him, and does great things for love of them. Let us not be afraid to ask him for all our needs.

– Show us your loving kindness.

Lord, we know that the good things we have received today have come as a gift from you:

  may we receive them with thankfulness and learn how to give.

– Show us your loving kindness.

Saviour and light of all people, keep missionaries in your special care:

  may the light of your Spirit burn strongly in them.

– Show us your loving kindness.

Grant that the world may be filled with the knowledge of your truth;

  help us to carry out all you have called us to do.

– Show us your loving kindness.

You healed the sickness and pain of your brothers:

  Bring healing and comfort to the spirit of man.

– Show us your loving kindness.

Give rest to the faithful departed;

  and bring them to praise you in eternity.

– Show us your loving kindness.