Then I cried, my grief coming in great wracking waves. This tragedy just keeps coming at me from unexpected directions. When I got home, I pulled a copy of New Yorker magazine out of my mailbox. Just looking at the cover, a black-on-black silhouette of the World Trade Center towers, brought it all back in undiluted anguish. I know that eventually I will be moving on, as best I can. As will you be moving on, as best you can. This horrible feeling of unreality hopefully will pass, and the ...

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