Journal Entry:
September 18, 2001
It only takes three words to change your life forever. The power within those words can make old memories flash before your eyes, memories you never thought you'd remember. Although I'm old, those words have the same effect on me. In today's world, everyone thinks that once you reach the 50 age mark, anything drastic that happens in our "elderly lives" isn't as important or effective as if we were 25. You see, as we age life starts to get boring and sad; filled with bad news of old school friends dying or the realization you are more than halfway done with your life, but these struggles are nothing compared to the struggle my family is experiencing today; but let me go back...
September 11, 2001
I am one of five children and the oldest of four boys. At a young age our Father passed away from Cancer and left our Mom with five kids all under the age of 15. In 1984 we were all grown up, Tom and Pat packed up and left the nest; Tom went to New York and Pat went to Australia. Tom and Molly were the only ones who had kids and they were great. I never had kids, but my wife and I have a goddaughter, Sara.
We tried to meet up with her every week and I treated her like my own. She had a great personality, light-hearted and funny. Every challenge I went through was for her, she gave me something to fight for. It's been two years since I've seen her now though, she's in New York. I tried to go visit her, but my old age held me back...
September 12, 2001
Here I am sitting in a squeaky leather chair, my mind flooded with thoughts of the horror that happened yesterday in New York. I keep trying to reach Sara, but all the phone lines are down. I decided to dial her number again, but I get interrupted. A man in a white jacket appears at the door and closes it softly behind him, beginning his sentence with "You have Cancer." 2 things come into my mind; One, how can there be so much power behind three words? Two, how am I going to tell Sara?
The four walls surrounding me disappeared and my heart began to race, I couldn’t catch my breath. I got up and left without saying another word to my doctor and ran as fast as I could to my car. My front jean pocket began to vibrate and I think of Sara immediately. I put on a brave voice and press the phone up to my ear, but I am met with another set of three words. This time, my world collapsed...
September 18, 2001 (Continued)
I look up from the journal and my eyes meet the brown wooden casket surrounded by people dressed in black. I stare at the picture frame sitting on the box and continue "I never thought I would be standing here speaking to all of you, I am the one supposed to be in that box." I feel an eerie quietness in the church as I stare at the picture, "Goodbye my beautiful Sara."
