9.1.1. occurred in concert with my beloved Zia Pasqualina’s crashing descent into Alzheimer’s.
“Before Alzheimer’s she would have joined our neighbors to bring food for New Yorkers to the local firehouse, called her former colleagues to check on their daughters and sons, visited Ground Zero, seen a Broadway show on principle, remembered Father Judge, the heroes who brought down the plane in Pennsylvania, cried for the children left and the folks who used their cell phones to say ‘I love you’ one last time. But she cannot. I write about her so my own nieces and newphews will know that she was a woman of compassion and tenderness who did not become cynical when hardships tested her, who could always place herself in somone else’s shoes, who would mourn and pray for all persons affected by the two planes crashing into the Twin Towers.
Her inability to do so burns as steadily in my mind as the smoky gap in the New York skyline, its former shape most vividly realized only after it has disappeared.”