ANOTHER YEAR, ANOTHER 911

911 is upon us once again....the 9th anniversary of the death of my step-sister, MICHELLE HERMAN-GOLDSTEIN. Although the day to day stuff is pretty much "normal", as I approach August ( her birthday month), it gets harder for me....each year....it never gets easier...I find myself crying harder and more often for Michelle!



The City holds a memorial for 911, where about 4 or 5 families (along with other caring individuals) go to mourn for the loss of their child, brother, sister, mother, father, etc... A piece of the World Trade Center sits on a platform, mounted with a plaque for all to see, and this is where my family goes every year to remember Michelle. It's all I have to remember her by that isn't too morbid. I cannot bring myself to go to the cementary for some reason. I recall my father telling me several years ago that as body parts were found through DNA, he and my step-mother were informed and asked if they wanted these remains sent here to Florida for burial. I picture a thumb, a thigh bone, a leg....and I just can't seem to bring myself to visit the cememtary for this reason. I also remember my father telling me that he and his wife told the City of NY to stop with the phone calls...I think each time they received one, it was as if Micelle died all over again.

Lately, I have been taking my children to the library to do fun things at least 4 or 5 times a month...puppet shows, plays, checking out books and movies. Each time I pass the Memorial, just outside the front doors, I touch it. I kiss my fingers and touch the piece of the World Trade Center and I can't help myself but cry. Sometimes I bring flowers, sometimes I place a stone on the twisted piece of metal, sometimes I look the other way and try to ignore it so I do not upset my children just before they are getting ready to do something fun inside the doors of the library. A few weeks ago, there was some sort of voting going on at the library and I brought my 10 year old daughter there to check out books. We stopped, we read the Memorial plaques as we have a million times before and my daughter looked around and couldn't believe what she saw. She couldn't stop herself from vocalizing her disbelief. There was a bunch of garbage surrounding "our" Memorial. She spoke out loud, "can you believe this? Look at this!" There were McDonald bags, empty chilli cups from Wendy's and Big Gulps actually on the Memorial. She picked up one of the Publix bags she found on the ground and proceeded to pick all the trash up, all the while voicing her disbelief that someone would "trash" our Memorial...the place we come to mourn Michelle.

My daughter was very small when Michelle died and doesn't physically remember her holding her when she would come to visit, but she knows she is "Aunt Michelle" and talks extremely highly of her. My daughter consoles me every time we walk by the Memorial, holding my hand, rubbing my back, being strong, not shedding a tear, but understanding how I feel, knowing we will first go to the restroom so I can wipe my eyes until my moment has passed and I can get back to the fun we came for in the first place. But she also knows we have to walk by the Memorial on the way out to leave...when we hold hands, say goodbye and go to the car. She can't even possibly know how important these moments we share are to me and how proud of her I am that she supports and understands my feelings, knowing they will pass and I will be "mommy" in just a few minutes.

And here we are again...911. I cannot believe 9 years has gone by and I cannot understand why I get more upset each year. I mean, I do not live my day to day life mourning and feeling depressed. As I said, around Michelle's birthday in August it starts. This year on her birthday I brought a birthday card with a picture of Michelle and some flowers to the Memorial and I sat there, crying, people staring at me, not knowing what to do or say and I didn't want anyone to. It's just something you have to get through yourself and tomorrow is another day and everything will be just a little bit better. Then, as we approach 911, of course I feel very sad. It just so happens my wonderful, thoughtful 10 year old child's birthday is on 9/10. This year, her birthday party is going to be on 9/11. I cannot deny her what she deserves and ignore the happiness of bringing my daughter into this world. So, even though I will first go to the Memorial and pray for Michelle, later in the afternoon we will celebrate Jessica's 11th birthday with smiles on our faces and cake in our mouths. I feel sad that Michelle will not be there, because what a great auntie she would have been to my children, but I know this is what Michelle would have wanted...for life to go on, for people to continue to celebrate and dance.

At this late hour, with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes, I write this memoir for Michelle. Not only for her memory, but for my step-mother, Ingrid Herman -Jaffe, who has to live this loss every day. For my father, Robert Jaffe, who consoles his wife often, and for her sister Anette, and her children, who miss Michelle deeply. I pray for them and hope their days become easier to live without Michelle and I pray for Michelle and her big, bright smile. If only she knew the impact her life made on this world and how her smile brightened every person she touched. God bless you MICHELLE HERMAN-GOLDSTEIN!

ALL MY LOVE,

WENDY