Kristen Breitweiser - Wake-Up Call: The Political Education of a 9/11 Widow

Copyright 2006 by Kristen Breitweiser

All rights reserved.

Warner Books

Hachette Book Group

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New York, NY 10017

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The Warner Books name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

First eBook Edition: September 2006

ISBN: 978-0-7595-6832-7

To Caroline, because your smiles, your giggles, and
your bug-hugs inspire me to never give up.

And to the moon and stars who follow me always and
give me a reason to look up and smile.

Mindy, Patty, Lorie, and Monicathe girlsI would not be alive today without our friendship. You have taught me how to survive and how to fight. How to laugh. How to be strong. And how to cry. Together, we have achieved so much. I am so very deeply proud to have you as my closest and truest friends.

Saramy best non-widow friendyou keep me grounded with your sparkling wit and enthusiasm. If there was ever a name that meant both little sister and very best friend, that name would be you, Sara.

Dad and Gailfor the many, many times that you came through for me with your simple advice, your babysitting and dogsitting, or just providing for Caroline and me a place to call our home.

Judy Lynnmy sisterI can never repay you for having the strength in times when I had none. You carried me through.

Mom-Mommy grandmotherfor teaching me about the most important things in life... because of you, I will always have a lilac bush under my bedroom window.

Gailyour advice, support, and guidance are the very best. But your friendship means the world to both Caroline and me.

The Siller familyyou are like a family to Caroline and me. Thank you for everything that you do for us and for truly giving Caroline her second home.

Jamie Raabmy editoryou are the best publisher/editor/ friend a person could have. Thank you for keeping me motivated and inspired by your never-ending support for this book.

Laura Palmerthank you for helping me get out of the starting gates and keeping me on track. Without you I might never have started writing this book.

Monikathank you for taking such good care of my two most prized possessions on this earth, Caroline and Cooper.

And for Mom and Ronthank you for being Carolines angels and my conscience.

Sweets,

Where to begin. Well, I am going to work under the assumption that you know that you are dead and that you might not know why. Explaining why you were murdered, how it happened, and what has happened to our world since that horrific day is a long story.

But first I want to tell you that Caroline, Sam, and I are okay. Caroline talks about you often. Yes, she talks. I know that must seem unbelievable to you, because when you were killed she was two and a half and suffering from speech delays. Well, she talks nowshe talks a lot. We still have speech issues, but for the most part she is a happy and healthy five-year-old girl.

What is most important for you to know about your little girl, our little doodlebug, is that she still smiles and giggles all the time. Ron, she is so happy. She continues to be our little sunshine. I tell her stories about you all the time. I tell her that when she was a tiny infant you would walk around the house with her when she couldnt sleep and sing her the birthday song because you didnt know any lullabies. I tell her that when she would awake during the night you rubbed her back until she fell off to sleep. I tell her how we used to walk on the beach with Sam and take him swimmingeven in winter. And of course I tell her how we so loved our walks together in the woods.

Caroline is no longer shy. Remember how she would never let people hold her and our friends and family worried that she was too attached to us? Well, that has changed. She has become a very confident, outgoing, and adaptable little girl. Her hair is long and blond. Her face is exactly like yours. When I look at her, I see all of you in her. And, although it makes me sad that you are not here to see her, on some level I have to believe that you are keeping an eye on her and getting such a kick out of how she dances through life. There were moments early on when she would look up to the ceiling or look out the window and giggle. It was as if she was seeing something, someone. I hoped it was you. Was it, Sweets?

She loves to play dress-up; her favorite is a fairy princess. Shes athletic, too, and adores riding horses. Youd be so proud to see her sit up straight on the horse and concentrate on riding. Her soccer team has only boysshe scored three goals last week. And she is learning how to read; her favorite book for now is Green Eggs and Ham.

She tells people without even really knowing them, My daddys dead. Very matter-of-fact. I guess that is what happens to you when your father dies and you have to share it with the whole world. It becomes a cold reality. She is too young to realize the startling impact this has on people when so bluntly delivered by such a little girl who for all intents looks normal. I guess, for her, she doesnt quite know what it is to have a daddy, so she cannot understand the devastating meaning behind having a dead daddy. All she knows is that her dad is an image trapped inside a photo.

For a while, all of the photos around the house of the two of you confused her. She kept looking at the pictures and realized that she was a baby in all of them. In her little mind, she thought that if she were a baby again, you would exist again. Consequently, she spent some weeks behaving like a baby. I finally asked her why she was behaving that way and she said, If I am a baby, Daddy will come back. She ran and got a picture of you with her and said, See, I am a baby. Thats Daddy. If I am a baby, I will see Daddy again. Daddy will come back.

Yes, Ron, we have many, many conversations like this. Conversations that rip out my heart, leaving me bewildered, speechless, and searching for answers. And I know that at some point I might not have those answers or fixes to make our little girl feel better. And that is what my life is like. I worry about the future. I worry about not having answers that will make Caroline feel safe and secure.

For now, though, I am still getting away with dodging Carolines increasing curiosity about what happened to you. I give her vague answers that sound reassuring. I do my best. Often I will have tears in my eyes as I talk to her about you. Noticing my sadness and tears, Caroline instinctively cradles my face in her hands and says, No, its okay, Daddy is in heaven and I can see him in the moon.

Yes, Sweets, she thinks that you are in heaven and that you live on the moon and amongst the stars. She often asks if she can go visit you. I try to explain to her that she cannot go to heaven because once she goes, she cannot come back. And then this goes into a very convoluted conversation that leaves me searching for even more answers. Its hard to explain to her that there are no visitors in heaven, and that if she goes there, she has to stay. Caroline promises and promises me that shed come back after her visit but that she just wants to see you, her daddy.

Every night she looks to find the moon in the sky. She confidently finds it and says, Thats where my daddy is. Depending on her mood that day, she either shouts or whispers, Mommy, Mommy! Theres the moon. I see Daddy. I love you, Daddy. I love you! as she blows kisses up to the night sky.

The last three years have transformed me in many ways. I have learned how to live as a single mother and as an activist. I dont know which transformation has been more difficult to undertake. I didnt really have a choice in either one. And neither transformation has been easy. For example, what is harder: staring down the director of the FBI and catching him in a flat-out lie or looking Caroline in the eyes and trying to tell her that not all planes are meant to crash into buildings?