Tanya Writes About the Heroes of 9/11

Where were you when the world stopped turning....
that September day?

When the towers were hit, I was driving to school, mourning my Beta fish Elizabeth. (Yes, I know they're male, but my friend Betty gave it to me and I named the fish after her. This one ended up Elizabeth I. I bought Elizabeth II later that day.) And because of my mood, I had on a relaxation spa tape and not KHAY, the country station which has frequent newsbreaks.

So not knowing a thing, I walked into my office and saw my ever-so-hard-working colleague glued to the TV set. I asked what was wrong.

Oh my God. I called my hero right away. A firefighter, his thoughts were with the brotherhood marching UPWARD into hell while everybody else was coming down.

I was scheduled the next day to attend a college counseling conference two hours away. Although I prayed the thing was cancelled, it wasn't...and I headed out that night to a hotel.

I can't explain how weird it was, no planes in the sky. Something that subtle suddenly not there was so unbelievably noticeable.

I wore a red and white top with a denim skirt to the conference, trying for patriotism. A night or two later, my hero and I attended a candlelit ceremony at the county government center....with hundreds of others.

This past summer, we visited Ground Zero. The temporary museum (the "real" one won't open until I think 2012.) supplies boxes of Kleenex every few feet. There really aren't any words a human can use to describe the pain that lingers there. The taped messages of loved ones who waited...and waited. One firefighter's wife said, everybody thinks September 11 was the worst day. Well, for me it's the 12th...the day they found my husband's body.

Make that body parts. I think only one late firefighter came out whole.

Ladder 10 is right across from the site. On 9/11, the entire shift crew perished. My hero went into talk to the guys. The memorials are heart-rending. A bronze mural down the side of the station features Truck #343.

The unimaginable number of firefighters lost that day.



I'm getting shivers just writing this. On our subway (make that "train") to Yankee Stadium, my hero had on a firefighter logo T-shirt. A guy sitting across from us started up a conversation. On 9/11, he'd been six-weeks retired from FDNY, and the minute the towers fell, he and almost 1,000 other retirees came back on the job. Nothing would keep them away.

Well, I know firefighters. Nothing can hold them back.

And I'll always have in my mind and heart the yellow Lab guide dog, Roselle, leading her man safely down 80 stories. Reading an article on them years later while I waited for an oil change had me sobbing in public.

Oh, I'm shivering again.

God bless the USA.

Tanya Writes About Her "Marley and Me"

Our kids gave me the book Marley and Me for Christmas a while back, and I spent two nights in front of the living room fireplace, in the glimmer of the tree, laughing myself silly about the antics of that dog.

My hero would ask what was so funny, and I explained it would be better to read it for himself. Which he has since done and laughed himself silly as well.

Now, there are distinct differences betweeh that Marley, and mine. He's yellow and male and she's black and a girl. But both were named for Bob Marley (Marley's folks liked his music; I wanted to to name her after a cool black person but the family nixed Shabazz and Aretha...)

But get into tons of trouble, both did that very well. Even us leaving the house just to walk to the mailbox at the end of the driveway gave our Marl a chance to create some kind of chaos. As a puppy, she managed to get into things we didn't even know we had. Her first Christmas she survived eating so many red glass tree ornaments we equated her to a cat with nine lives. But she's such a cuddlemuffin, forgiveness was instantaneous. And she'd have made a great search dog. If she paws and whines, you know right away a ball or toy is closeby but not within her reach. She's never ever wrong.

Well, the time came, reading that Christmas present book, that my sobs could be heard throughout the whole house. "What's wrong?" my hero came in quick from watching TV. "You okay?"

I remember waving the book at him. "Marley died," I wept.

And so it goes. Our Marley's "big sister" Tawny, our own yellow Lab, crossed the rainbow bridge four years ago. I keep telling Marl she'll soon get to play with Tawny again. When she passed, Tawny took a piece of my soul with her. It was sudden, monstrous. But with Marley, I've had these few days to get myself ready. Although the cancer is inexorable, inoperable, she's still bright-eyed and "bendy"--our Friends-esque word for the acrobatic ways she manages to fall asleep. Still eating--we've decided to spoil her with deli turkey.

This afternoon, she laid under the front tree while I worked on my roses, on a perfect summer day with blue sky, bright sun, and a cool ocean breeze. It'll make a good memory...when I can bear to think about it.

I've still got my big boy black Lab, Seau. But it'll still be lonely around here. Marl's the one I talk to when I'm up late. She's the one who warms my toes when I'm reading in front of the fire. She's the one who slept in our bed, tucked between us, when she was five weeks old.

Tomorrow our little grandson comes for some last photos with her.

And then I know it will be time.

Next up: (when I've recovered enough to blog again) X-rated Fortune Cookies