Health Diaries > Dissociative Identity Disorder > Butterfly Team

September 11, 2006

Remembering A Friend....

I wrote this 2 years ago. Not much has changed but just needed to "put it out there" again to honor Billy's memory. I'm not sure why but I'm having the hardest time this year, more so than in previous years. Donna says it's probably because I'm in a place where I'm feeling much more myself, instead of those inside feeling. I suppose that's true. I'll be in Manhattan later on today. Billy's wife is reading some of the names at the memorial today. I wish I oculd just stay in bed today. It's seems too hard.

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Dear Billy,

I remember the last day that I saw you. I was at your house to meet up with S. We were going to an AA meeting together. You were putting on your sneakers - getting ready to go out for a run. I was struggling that day. You came over to me and put your arm around me. You said I needed to hang in. That I would be okay if I kept going to meetings. That you saw S turn her life around and I could too. That your family was there for me whenever I needed you. That I would be okay. You smiled at me, turned towards the door and walked out to start your run. S and I got in the car and headed to the meeting. We passed you on the way. S slowed the car down and we whistled and shouted out "Sexy" as we drove past you. You smiled and waved. That was the last time I saw you.

On the morning of September 11th you woke up early and went to work in the Trade Center. It was always so important for you to work hard. You wanted to give your family everything. And you always gave them and everyone who came into your life more than anyone could ask for. S spoke to you around 8:30 in the morning and told you she found your cell phone on the table. You had forgotten it that morning. 15 minutes later, the first plane hit. I was at school when I found out what happened. I had to keep myself together all day for my children in my class. Outside of my school, you could see the Twin Towers in the distance. I saw the smoke and tried to keep myself together thinking that you were inside of there. As I watched the towers collapse into a heap of dust, my heart stopped beating for a few seconds. I prayed that you were late to work that day (I didn't know yet that S had already spoken to you there). When school was over, I drove to your house. I stayed there for several days on end. So many people were there. We all sat and watched the unbelievable sites on TV. We all waited and prayed. We waited to hear from you. We prayed that you were safe somewhere, just not able to get in touch with us. We went to the city to check hospitals. We hung up pictures of you hoping someone who saw you last could tell us where you were. Hours passed. Days passed. No word from you. Reality started to hit. You weren't coming home.

I often sit and wonder what you went through that morning. Did you die instantly when the plane hit? Were you still alive and trapped somewhere? Were you trying to get down the 100+ flights of stairs when the tower collapsed? My hope was that you died right away and instantly went to a better place. This whole situation is unbearable but it would be even more unbearable to think you were alive and trapped and scared and trying to get out.

I miss your smile, your optimism, your generous heart. You welcomed me into your family as if I was your own daughter. I never got to tell you how much that meant to me........how much it still means to me.

Your daughter got married a few months ago. She didn't have her father there to walk her down the aisle. I know you were there with her, though. Your son has your picture tattoed on his upper back. Underneath, it says "My Dad, My Hero." I listen to S share at meetings about how much her heart aches without her soalmate by her side. They started a foundation in your name. It has been very successful, helping many people just like you'd always done. Your spirit goes on, Billy.

Three years have passed but it doesn't seem any easier. You are still missed very much. I don't go to your house as much anymore. It got too hard. It reminds me of the days on end spent there waiting for you to come home. Everytime the door opened, praying it was you who walked through it.

You have not been forgotten, Billy. We miss you terribly.

Posted by Butterflyteam on September 11, 2006 4:00 AM

Posted by: Ijellorca at September 11, 2006 9:43 AM

Posted by: The Real Me at September 11, 2006 3:51 PM