Moving On

Dear Mom,

Nine years, mom. Can you believe it? I know I can't. I started high school. I'm on honor roll, just like you were. I made the soccer team, just like you did. Dad says i'm more and more like you every day.

Nine years, though. It seems like an eternity without you. The other girls are done bullying me I think. My friend's mom told me about how I need to use deodorant, and helped me when I had my first period. I'm still getting the hang of make up, though.

I still remember the other girls teasing me because I always smelled. My nickname "Smelly Ellie" seems to have gone away finally. They just don't understand, mom. They can't understand that I don't know about these obvious hygiene facts because I don't have anyone to teach me. They do. They have their moms to tell them, and I don't. It's not fair.

Dad says I still have you though. Every night he somehow manages to smile, gesture to where my heart is, and tell me that you are alive inside of me. Then he'll poke my forehead and remind me that I still have the memories of you.And I do. When you died, all the moments I could possibly recall became more profound.

My earliest memory with you is of Christmas when I was four years old. You sat on the couch with dad, curled into him with a mug of hot cocoa in your grasp. You encouraged me to open a present from under the tree, and I did. I was so excited, there was a small sticker on it that said 'To: Elizabeth From: Santa Claus'. I ripped open the wrapping paper and it was a Rubiks Cube. I was ecstatic.

I also remember the first day of Kindergarten, and how I sobbed in your arms because I didn't want to go. You stroked my hair like you always did when you hugged me. Your other arm always wrapped around my tiny torso .

Or my last memory of you. A week before the massacre, when you were leaving for your job at the World Trade Center. It was early, of course. I was awake because I was sick and had a restless night of sleep. You took care of me. If only I could have taken care of you.

You were tired, and so I told you a joke. It was a stupid joke, really: "What did the cat say when someone stepped on her tail? ME-OW!"

You smiled at me, that kind smile of yours and laughed. Your laugh always cheered me up. It was a sort of tinkling laugh, and it sounded like bells. It always amused me whenever you and dad would laugh together, because his laugh was booming and loud while yours was soft and sweet.

I also remember the phone call. I don't remember exactly what time it was, but the phone rang. I was watching cartoons, swaddled in a blanket that you had wrapped around me right before you left for work. I got up and answered it.

"Hello?" I answered. I still remember your words.

"Hey baby girl! I just wanted to remind you how much mommy loves you. Forever and always, remember? You are the biggest blessing in my life-a true miracle. I love you! Don't ever forget it." You sounded slightly panicked. It was a little difficult to make out your words. I heard some screams. All sounds were slightly muffled.

"Is something wrong mommy?"

"Of course not baby girl. Mommy loves you, okay? Can you get daddy for me please?" You reassured me. I woke up dad and handed him the phone.

His eyes soon went wide as saucers, and he shoved past me to the television, and switched the channel. I followed after him and saw two buildings on fire on the screen. I recognized them as the place where you worked. I was confused, what was happening?

"Get out of there, there is an exit-right? Go down the stairwell!" Daddy sounded anxious. I saw his face pale then. I couldn't hear what you were saying to him.