Sunday, was my oldest friend's first wedding anniversary. Sadly, her husband was not alive to celebrate it.

Today, marks 6 months since this day.

That day feels like a lifetime ago. Remembering it, is like watching a horrific movie of my life.

Unfortunately, I had to watch that movie all day, as bits and pieces of that day were flashed across the television that I am required to monitor at work.

They used the photo of him on his wedding day, his face framed by our vibrant, red bridesmaid bouquets, in the obit and his memorial programs. I can hear him enthusiastically respond when the photographer suggested that shot, "A shot with the ladies! C'mon Ladies!!!!"I remember the other deceased groomsman, strutting around the reception like he was Tom Cruise. I remember him, sauve, coming up on my right side from behind me and leaning in to me with a smile at the bar.

If I choose to, I can remember the long days searching, the dust that covered this island and my eyes, all of the faces on the flyers wallpapered across every inch of Manhattan, and finally, that day weeks later, when I was escorted around the perimeter of what had been the WTC but was then, a steaming, mound of steel and synthetics and glass and fuel and burning, ripped flesh. I remember silently staring into the living graveyard and wishing undescribable death on those who supported the movement that created this burial ground.

Today I feel remarkably at peace. I sensed tension and frustration and enormous sadness among others today. All I felt was...tired.

I'm exhausted.

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