When I got home, I swung by my parents’ house to pick up my son and my father – a World War II veteran and one of the most patriotic people I have ever known - sat frozen in front of the TV screen. It was the first time in a long time that I saw tears in his eyes. He was absolutely stunned. We talked about the day and he kept coming back to the same thoughts – what has happened to this country and to the world, he kept asking? The nation had become a place that he didn’t recognize.

Three days later, I found myself sitting in the office of his oncology doctor and listened to her tell both of us that my dad had bone cancer. They thought that they had detected it early and began radiation treatments the next day. Within two days, I had to check him into the hospital for pain management. A few days later, that same doctor sat with me at his bedside and said “we are done”. It is time to move him to a hospice and let’s just keep him comfortable. On Oct. 1, 2001 at 12:01AM, he died.

The scientist/logical thinker in me knows that my father’s cancer had been eating away at his body long before 9/11, but there will always be that place in my heart that believes that for him – that day marked the beginning of the end of his desire to stay on this planet. What happened that day was beyond his wildest imagination. It brought such fear and sadness that I honestly believe he just didn’t know how to get past it. His heart was broken. That may sound very melodramatic, but on this tenth anniversary of a day that changed this country forever, it is still a vivid reminder of how quickly life can change and how powerful that day was for all of us.

I want to say to Veterans – both living and deceased - Thank you for your service.