I'm fairly sure that all of you remember Sept, 11, 2001. And it leaves a mixed feeling of sorrow for those innocents lost and anger for those that performed the deed.
2 years earlier, Sept 07, 1999 My father collapsed at work and was unconscious when he arrived at the hospital. This was in Kenosha, WI. Living in Fort Worth, TX, i recieved a phone call from my mother that the event had happened. I was working road service and was in Dallas (I635 and Big Town Blvd for those that know the area) over 40 miles from home, at about 3 in the afternoon.
At this point I call my boss and let him know what is going on. So I completed the job I was on and my boss told me to just go home and wait for news.. He know I'd be worthless for the rest of the day anyway. Now for the rough part.... 3 in the afternoon.. East of Dallas.. having to drive back to Fort Worth.. with bad news on my mind.. good thing my truck isn't wired for sound.. lol
So I got home had time for a shower and was just a shell of myself waiting for news. When the phone finally rang I was almost scared to pick it up and hear what was going to be said on the other end. But I did, and dad had regained consciousness but was very weak. The doctors decided that he needed to remain in the hospital for a few days to regain his strength so his body could handle open heart surgery.
I called my boss and let him know what was going on, he repied with an offer for me to take the week off. I had told him no because I needed something to keep my mind off of events, if I sat at home I would go crazy. Besides, the family told me to wait until they had a date and time for surgery before I came to visit. It would have sucked to have been there while he regained strenght, then have to leave before the surgery.
On the morning of Sep 11, 1999 I was working again (and in Royce City for those that know the area) 50+ miles from Fort Worth. I recieved another phone call from my mother. This was even more bad news.. My father's organs had begun to shut down. Immediately what ran through my head was that I listened to everyone to stay in Texas and wait for a surgery date. I could have been there with him in his final hours. I stopped the job I was doing sat on my tailgate and cried. I would never see or talk to my father again. And it was because of a choice I had made. MY fault. I regained my composure and completed the job. Called my boss and told him what was going on. He at that point ORDERED me to go home and find a way to my parents house as soon as possible.
So I went home.. driving through Dallas again but this time through Sunday morning chruch traffic. Not a great experience.
But anyway, I arrived home and took a shower, got dressed, and just layed on the bed. Just fearing the next phone call.. already knowing what it was going to say.
And as I thought the call came.. and it was over.. Dad was gone. And her I am 1900 miles away, the only family member not there at the end for him. I felt so upset that I listened to them all and stayed here. At the same time, this void opened up in my chest, knowing I would never hear his voice again, hear his laugh.
How are you suppposed to feel when the one person you though was invincible dies? Hell he sure lived like he was. It wasn't until last year when I heard the song "Live Like You Were Dying: Tim McGraw" that I think I finally understood why Dad seemed so unstoppable in his last few years. I think he knew and didn't want to worry all of us.
Now munites after I got the news, my mife's sister called and they were going to go to Chuck E Cheeses and wanted us to go with. I said HELL NO, last thing I wanted to do in my state of mind was to be around lots of screaming kids. But I went anyway, because they didn't want me left alone.
But Monday was the first flight we could get to go home. My wife, daughter and I. Granted my daughter being 5 really had no idea what was going on. But we got there, and for the next two days.. Funeral being Wednesday Sep 14, 1999 in the afternoon we had so much to get ready. Every time we did anything Mom would break down, not like I could really blame her, and my brother followed suit. So I forced myself to be strong for them, one of us had to be.
At the Funeral, it was astounding. In the guest book, there were 137 lines filled out with mostly Mr, Mrs and family. Where we had it there was standing room only. I had no idea that my Dad touched that many lives. But I held my ground.. I've been strong for everyone for three whole days.. no time to crumble now.
The song performed at the Funeral was by the chorus my mom was a member of. It was awesome. At the moment I can't remember the name of the song.. but the way my Dad lived "Roll out the Barrel" probly would have been closer.. lol
But after the Funeral was over, my brother sat there rock solid, no faultering at all. I looked at him, looked at Mom, then it happened. All my strength left me and I fell apart.. gripping my brothers arm soaking his shoulder. Three days of sorrow in 10 minutes time. It took all I had to recover so I could even walk to the car and go to where the dinner was going to be held.
Again, I really belive that Dad didn't want a Funeral. Who really wants the world to weep at your passing. I think Dad would have wanted us to throw a party, to celebrate the fact he was here, touched our lives, and will always be remembered. I know that's what I want.
But at the dinner I was distant from everyone. Still in denial that it was over, he was really gone.
Not a day goes by that I don't regret not going to see him in WI while he was in the hospital. All I can do now is remember him as the man he was: Fun, intelligent, creative, Dad.
I'll always remember you Dad, you were one of a kind.
Raymond Peter Billen Jr. Jan 28, 1943 - Sep 11, 1999 Age 56
Some may wonder why I wrote this. One to get it off my chest, I've needed to say, write, even scream it at times, but my Father was stubborn in his ways, and really didn't do what the doctor told him to. What I am saying is this... There is always someone that will miss you when you pass, take care of yourself, eat right, stay healthy, live as long as possible. I saw what my Grandparents had to go through having to bury a child of thiers. NO parent should EVER have to. And no child should be a child having to.
Sep 11, 2001 The US lost 3000+ innocent people before it was thier time to go. Parents lost children, children lost parents, people lost thier significant other, and people lost friends.
From the stories I have read, and heard about that day. We all lost something, but we know that many of the Firefighters and Police of NYC lost thier lives... but what we know they didn't lose was their COURAGE. I read one account of a survivor that had heard one of the Firefighters ask his partner "How long do we have to get everyone out?" The response was "Time isn't an issue.. The lives we save are." To those men and women that lost THIER lives.. I am sad for your loss.. but proud that there are people in the world that consider everyone elses lives before thier own.
Do me a favor after you read this, say a prayer for those we lost that day.
Originally Written 11 SEP 06
