NICOLE CAROL MILLER
March 4, 1980 - September 11, 2001

 

"You can shed tears that she is gone,

or you can smile because she has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back,

or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her,

or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,

or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her only that she is gone,

or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind,

be empty and turn your back.

Or you can do what she'd want:

smile, open your eyes, love and go on."

 - David Harkins

I was at Safeway earlier tonight and as I stood in line at the checkout, the lady in front of me asked "Aren't you sick of all this September 11th crap?"


WOW.

My first instinct was to punch her in the mouth but instead I just took a deep breath and silently counted to ten. As I exhaled, my left hand went to my right wrist and I pulled down the stainless steel 9/11 NYPD Memorial bracelet. I slipped it off my arm and rubbed it as if trying to draw strength from it. I knew I was going to need it if I was going to speak without my voice cracking.

"I mean, honestly, it's been ten years...let it go already. Stop beating a dead horse..." she droned on about the news coverage of the upcoming memorials planned for next week. "Seriously...we're on the west coast. What the hell do we have to do with it?"

Suddenly a strong firm voice replied "I'll tell you what we have to do with it, lady. Or rather what I have to do with it. Number 1 - I am an American. Number 2 - I lost someone that day. Number 3 - the day we forget about what happened that day is the day it's bound to happen again. Look I'm all for free speech and I believe everyone is entitled to their own opinion...but I don't understand. I don't understand how you can ask that question without considering whether or not anyone has any personal ties to 9/11. Well I happen to have a personal interest in September 11 - my friend Nicole was on United Flight 93. So I'll be damned if I just let it go or forget what happened that day. You should be ashamed of yourself for being such an asshole."

It was then that I realized the voice that spoke those words was my very own. My two hands were balled up in fists and in one of them was my bracelet. I shoved it towards her. You could've heard a pin drop...the customers at the surrounding registers were staring at me wide-eyed. I squared my shoulders and asked her to please read the inscription.

She took the bracelet and held it gingerly. In a shaky voice, she read "The first line says: NYPD - 23 - WTC." She cleared her throat and continued "The bottom line says: 9 - 11 - 01." She gave it back to me and whispered "Sorry...I had no idea."

An older gentleman behind me asked where I got the bracelet and if he could see it. I handed it to him and he asked what the 23 meant. I explained that Bernard Kerik gave me the bracelet. At the time of the attacks, Mr. Kerik had been the Police Commissioner. He had lost 23 members of his security detail that day.

I don't remember much more about the rest of the night as I've been in a daze. It's almost 10 years. That's a long time to reflect...most of the time it seems like yesterday while other times it feels like it was a million years ago.

I'm sure I'll write again sometime in the next week. For now, I am exhausted. I forgot how out-of-whack and tired I get around this time of year.


I miss you, Nicole Miller. I really do.

Nervous

In a few hours, I will meet my friend Nicole's mother, Cathy, for the first time. I am also going to meet Grant for the first time as well. I am not nervous about meeting Grant at all. But I am scared I will cry when I meet Cathy. In fact, I am quite certain I will.

After meeting up with Grant at his hotel, we will drive to Nicole's house in San Jose. I will be in the house that Nicole grew up in. I will sit on the same furniture that she one sat on...be in the same rooms that she once laughed in, cried in, and lived in. I might even drink from the same glasses that she once drank from. I will probably shake her mom's hand and/or even hug her at some point today. None of these things scare me and they shouldn't make me nervous but they do.

I don't want to cry or look like a sissy lala but how can I not cry when I talk about Nicole? Especially when I'm talking to the woman that brought her into this world? There is no doubt in my mind that she'll ask me how I met her daughter and maybe even what my favorite memory of her is. I don't want to sound foolish when I tell her that my favorite memory is one I have after she passed away. But I will tell her and I will most likely than not cry. Not because I'm sad but because it was her daughter's memory that gave me the strength and courage to leave Erik. That it was Nicole's voice I heard when I blacked out...that it was her daughter who, even in death, made everything seem like it'd be alright.

Nicole was a special person. I knew that the moment I laid eyes on her 11 years ago. Seeing her smile was like the sun on my heart. Some how I have the feeling that I will get the same sensation when I meet Cathy in a couple of hours. And that makes my heart smile. Maybe not as bright as when I first met Nicole, but I am sure I will smile just the same.

I am going to try to get a little bit of sleep now so I don't look like too much of a zombie when I meet Grant and Cathy tomorrow. Wish me luck...hopefully I won't cry too much.

Three days in September...

There are three days in September that I keep tucked away. Three days extra with someone that was taken from me. I wish I could get them back though I don't know what difference those three days would make in the long run.


On September 11th, 2001, at 8:45 a.m., the first of two airlines struck the World Trade Center in New York, in the first of a series of coordinated terrorist attacks on the United States. At 9:03, a second plane crashed into a second World Trade Center tower, and exploded. Hundreds of New York City and Port Authority rescue personnel rushed to the scene.

At 9:43 a.m., a third passenger plane crashed into the Pentagon.

At 10:03 a.m., a fourth passenger jet crashed in western Pennsylvania.

At 10:05, the south tower of the World Trade Center collapses, plummeting into the streets below. A massive cloud of dust and debris forms and slowly drifts away from the building.

At 10:28, The World Trade Center's north tower collapses from the top down, releasing a tremendous cloud of debris and smoke.

Over the course of the next three days, I watched in horror with the rest of the world. The images I saw would forever be seared into my memory. I watched as one Missing Person poster turned into five turned into a hundred then into thousands. I watched people wander through the dust and debris looking for their loved ones. I recall feeling like I needed to do something. But not knowing what to do. On the third day, September 14, 2001, my world forever changed.


That was the day I found out someone I knew was one of the innocent victims lost on September 11. That was one of those three days in September that I lost and can never get back again. Three days that I was in suspended animation...where everything was surreal...and Nicole was still very much alive.

I sometimes try to go back to those three days and wonder if I even thought about her. I did not know she was on vacation with Ryan. I did not know she wasn't in California. Though I am almost certain I didn't think of her until John came and broke the news to me on the 14th, I still go back to those three days often. Because for 72 hours, she was still alive as far as I was concerned. That gives me 3 more days with her. At least when I miss her I can pretend it does. And that's all I really want...just a little more time with her.

Justice for Nicole

I thought I would find some sort of comfort when this day came. That I would feel some sort of relief when the person responsible for Nicole's death, as well as the deaths of almost 3,000 others, on September 11 was brought to justice. Now that this day has arrived, I feel like I have been waiting in vain.


I don't feel comforted by his death. The empty feeling in my chest is still there. It hasn't diminished in size; in fact, it might even be a little bigger. Or maybe it just feels that way because the scab has been ripped off the wound once again...and it hurts just as much (maybe even a little more) than it did almost 10 years ago. At least I think it does.

In the first three days after September 11, the events of that Tuesday morning were surreal to me. I remember thinking Good thing I live on the west coast...this couldn't possibly affect me in the slightest... I had 72 hours to watch it like millions of others, as if I was watching a movie, totally and completely unaffected by all of it. Then came September 14. That was the day my life changed. That was the day I learned that Nicole was a passenger on United Flight 93. That day my life changed forever and it will never be the same. I have Osama bin Laden to thank for it.

Tonight, at around 8:45 pm, I received an instant message from a fb friend named Grant. He said "Did you hear?" Then a few seconds later "Bin Laden is dead...they got him...turn on CNN." Today is May 1, 2011. It is almost ten years later.

Though I have waited for this day for a long time. I had thought I would find some comfort in his capture. I had thought I'd feel some sort of relief by his death. I had thought that when this day came I'd be jumping for joy. But the truth of the matter is I'm not dancing in the streets and I've felt nothing except anxious. Anxious because they aren't going to go away quietly and I'd bet a million dollars that they're already grooming someone to take his place. As much as I hate to say it, I'm anxious because I am anticipating their next move.

Am I glad he was found? Yes. Am I happy he's dead? Not really. I'd rather he'd been taken alive. Am I going to cheer in the streets and dance around because he is dead? No. Some people have asked me "Why not?" If I did, then I'd be no different than the Palestinians danced in the street and passed out candy after the 9/11 attacks. I am better than that...most of the time, that is. I won't lie; there have been many times since 9/11 that I wished OBL to be drawn and quartered. Or something equally as gruesome and painful. But try as I might to hate the way he hated, I can't. The closest I can get to that is the part of me that is happy he is no longer breathing. This is the same part of me that thinks the world is a better place because he is no longer a part of it. Do I think the world is a safer place now that he's gone? No. What scares me the most is that it seems to me that a lot of Americans think his death means GAME OVER. And it's not. Not by a long shot.

I've come to the conclusion that maybe this is why this day hasn't brought me any comfort or any relief. Nothing really has changed. The death of Osama bin Laden will not bring any of the nearly 3,000 people back that were killed that day. My beautiful friend, Nicole Miller, will never again walk into a room and make everything seem okay with her million dollar smile. I will never hear her laughter again...never hear that sound again in this lifetime.

NICOLE C. MILLER
Sunrise
March 4, 1980
Sunset
September 11, 2001


People say that time heals all wounds. Once again, I say they are full of shit. It's been almost a decade and time hasn't healed a damn thing. And neither has the death of OBL. I don't think I'll ever find any relief and I have the sinking suspicion that it is because I don't ever think anything will ever bring justice as far as Nicole and 9/11 are concerned.

At least not for me.