All you need to hear is "September 11th" and your mind is filled with the horrible images of that day and the days that followed. It's a little different for me - my life had already been changed forever by my own tragedy eleven days earlier.
As I prepared to leave for work that morning, I was tired and hot - too tired and hot and grouchy to kiss my husband Daniel goodbye as he laid on the sofa bed. He was smirking at me because he got to stay home that day while I had to work. But underneath his smirk and my grumbling we were both exhausted. And afraid.
So far 2001 had been one life-changing event after another. It started with Daniel losing his job in the auto design industry. He quickly found another job we expected would be temporary - stocking shelves at a grocery store - while he continued to look for a job in his field.
Spring brought us the next shocker. My father died suddenly of a heart attack. We traveled to the funeral in Chicago from our home in Michigan. It was that weekend we found out that the job of caretaker at the parish cemetery was open. We looked at each other and knew this was something we had to consider.
Of course working in a cemetery was sort of a strange idea. Daniel never set foot in one unless he was forced to. But he also loved the outdoors and had a knack for digging holes. I thought the caretaker job would be perfect for him, especially since we knew the prospects of him getting back into auto design were slim. The caretaker job paid better than the grocery store and it even came with a small house to rent. But there was another bonus...Daniel taking this job meant I would be back home in Chicago with my family. After much consideration we decided to make the move and put our house up for sale.
Then Daniel's father, who had enjoyed extremely good health most of his life, suddenly got sick. Daniel adored his father and agonized about the move we were making. But the wheels were in motion, and his father was in good hands (Daniel's brother and his wife took him in, God bless them). We continued with our plans.
By the beginning of June I had applied for a job transfer. As it turned out it was a bad time for the transfer because of other changes going on in my company. So Daniel moved before me. He worked at the cemetery during the week and drove home every weekend. After two months of this I decided to take my chances and make the move as well. I ended up working for another department part time, while still hoping for a full time position. I joined my husband in Chicago at the beginning of August.
The summer had been extremely hot. Working outside all day was a huge adjustment for Daniel after so many years in air-conditioned comfort. But he seemed to be doing well. The months stocking shelves at the grocery store had built him up after all those years behind a desk. He loved walking to work and tinkering with the machinery. There were only a few funerals that summer, so he spent most of his time cutting grass and doing other maintenance work.
About two weeks after I arrived he started complaining of being short of breath. We thought it might be a new allergy, or that maybe he was developing asthma. He had had pneumonia several years before so he was very sensitive to anything going on in his lungs. After a week of complaining he finally went to the doctor, who could not find a cause. This was Tuesday the 28th. The doctor scheduled a follow up visit for the next week to do some more tests if the condition did not improve. Daniel went back to work.
On Thursday he asked me to take him to the hospital. He knew something was seriously wrong. We spent the afternoon in the emergency room. They asked a million questions, took x-rays and did lots of other tests, but no cause revealed itself. They released him with instructions not to work and to visit his doctor the next week as scheduled.
That night we ate leftovers for dinner and relaxed on the couch. There was a huge storm brewing, and being away from the city lights we enjoyed a spectacular show of lightning through the bay window in the living room. We speculated about what might be wrong with him, and talked about alternatives if it ended up he could not continue working outdoors. After everything we had been through that year, the thought of another major disruption in our lives was overwhelming.
So I left for work the next morning in a bad mood after a night of fitful sleep. I told Daniel to keep the cell phone nearby and I would call him at 10 so he could go back to sleep for a few hours. I called at 10 and got no answer. I didn't worry yet, thinking he was either in the bathroom or had felt better and took a walk without his phone. But I continued to get no answer when I called every 20 minutes. At Noon I decided to go home.
When I walked in the door I called for him, and was greeted by silence.
continued
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