(Note: Photo from Associated Press. Linda Camille’s husband was in construction on 9/11, but her essay gives a vivid picture of what firefighters also endured. She was one of my writing students at The School of American Thanatology, which is the study of loss, death, grief and healing). This is her story.
By Linda Camille
Two days after September 11, 2001, my husband Tom walked through the door, his red hair, which at 38, was already turning a beautiful shade of gray, was now topped in fine, white powder which trailed down his neck and onto his shoulders.
“Snowmen” is what the media called the people covered in the pulverized concrete and various debris from the collapsed Twin Towers, yet there was nothing festive or jolly about how he looked. The cold chill that went through my body was the only common thread I made between my husband who now stood before me as a “snowman” and the fun and happy winter beings we made together in the past. Tom was a construction superintendent and working on the roof of an adjacent building when the first plane hit the north tower, he left the area soon after the second plane hit. As he fled, the north tower had begun to collapse, catching him and many others in its thick, cloudy aftermath.
He walked into our home and hugged me tightly. Crying and shaking, he was encased in a hard shell. After a couple of days of being at Ground Zero, the white powder mixed with his sweat, the warm sun, and the heat from the impact, causing a weird reconstitution of a unique concrete hardening him. I needed to cut him out from his rigid clothing, and it revealed cuts, blood, and bruises one would never know existed from the outside. For an unknown reason I felt compelled to wash his clothing as if it would ever take away what had happened.
Over two decades later, I can close my eyes and relive this moment in its entirety with the same disbelief. However, I do not visit this memory often although it is always at the ready. Despite the annual commemoration of tributes, media attention, and moments of silence offered by millions, I resist participating, instead offering a private invocation to the day.
The daily fallout and reminders of this tragedy are with us daily. My husband has been diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis and interstitial lung disease that will progress over time. With a lung capacity of 44% (as of this writing), and no chance of improvement, he must work to try to keep it from decreasing.
My grief is not just for him, but for what we have missed and will miss in the future and all it encompasses, too long to list, and some of which I am sure I have not even considered. This illness and its agency into our lives sits quietly with us, a silent third partner holding unfair power.
We live with a sense of urgency; to get things done, said, and settled, which at times feels overwhelming for both of us. There is also a great need for us, especially him, to slow down, and take time to rest. Our daily life rhythms, participation and experiences are often thwarted despite our best intentions.
My old friend, the duality of life, rears its head again. Festina lente (make haste slowly) is not of our choosing, but is ours now, as we try to come to terms with it and live in its wake.
DO YOU HAVE A FIREFIGHTER RELATED CANCER STORY?
Please contact Suzette Standring (suzette@firefightersvscancer.org) if you, as a firefighter or family member, have a story to share.
EARLY TESTING SAVES LIVES, ORDER OneTest
Buy the OneTest early cancer detection home kit here and apply the below codes to get everything at the stated price and for free shipping.
COUPON CODES for OneTest:
FFvCStand – Includes the Standard Test with Capillary Draw device and free shipping ($199)
FFvCPrem – Includes the Premium Test with Capillary Draw device and free shipping ($345).
To order and get more infomation, CLICK HERE
Visitor Comments (0)
