Seth stayed there, holding my hand, not saying much of anything. Thank God he was there. To go through this all alone would have been even worse.

“Are you feeling a little bit better?” he asked finally.

“I just can’t believe it…I can’t believe that he’s gone.”

“I wouldn’t even pretend to know how hard this is. Nobody who hasn’t gone through it themselves possibly could. Could you do me a favor?”

What could I possibly do for him? I nodded.

“Tell me about your father.”

“What?”

“Tell me about him. I want to know. Please.”

“Um…he was a lawyer…I don’t know what else to say…what do you want to know?”

“Was he a good husband and a good father?”

“The best. He always treated my mother so wonderfully, he loved her so much. And he was always there for me and my brother. He never missed a game or a piano recital or a school play. He always said he lived for his kids and…” I started to cry again.

Seth sat down right beside me and put an arm around my shoulder. “And that’s why he’s going to be missed so much.”

I nodded and tried to fight back the tears. “It wasn’t just his family. He was always trying to help people. Today a man on a truck told me that it was my father and my brother who saved the lives of his wife and son.”

“I’ve heard so many stories of bravery, people risking their own lives trying to save others. I wonder if that’s how he died, trying to save somebody. I guess we’ll never know.”

“My brother might know…if…if…”

“Until we know differently, your brother is alive. And so is your mother. You can’t give up hope. Not yet. You stay here,” he said as he got to his feet. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

I sat on the bench and watched. All around me were other tourists, checking the message boards, showing pictures, or being led through the morgue. Twice I heard cries of joy as people were reunited. I watched, detached, as one couple embraced and jumped up and down with excited relief.

Then there were the tears of a different type. I sat there and watched as people found pictures on the board or a body under the tarps. They broke down sobbing, or screamed out in pain or in denial, howled as though they’d been physically wounded. It felt so unreal, as if I were watching a movie or the news on television rather than actually being there.

I should have felt happy for those who’d found somebody alive—ecstatic—and shared in the pain of the others who had not, maybe gone and tried to comfort them. Instead, I sat there, unable to think or feel or move. I just felt numb.

I envied the people who had somebody, to share either the grief or the joy. I had nobody. I’d never felt so alone in my life. If only there was…I reached for my phone and dialed my home number. I needed to speak to Tad, to ask him if he’d heard anything and to share what I knew. There was no signal. The phone was flat. Not even a busy signal.