The update. God, the update is that there hardly is an update. Pony and Pixie are awesome, they came over yesterday, sat with me, cried with me, speculated and worried with me. Then, later in the evening, they dragged me away from the fucking television and listened to me talk to family, gave me a drink and were just THERE. I so appreciated hearing from a few people yesterday. Cyrano, Bobo, Lorena. Nice, those check-ins. Those, hey, how is this affecting you, don't you have family there?

Jeffrey is on the official Missing Persons List. We have hope, as many found are still alive. No one could keep my 3 cousins, Neil, John, & Roger from racing back into the city to help search. They STILL haven't stopped. They won't give up until they find him or collapse.

Kevin was on the 30th floor when the building began to collapse. Jeffrey was beneath him on another floor, evacuating people. When the building began to rumble, Kevin ran out, and he got away.

Heather broke down teaching her class today and left the school. Jenny and I are on our way over to her place to sit and wait with her and Sean. Wait to hear anything. Pray, I guess, though I'm not much for that. Hope. I'm one for that. Sometimes.

To hear my mother and father cry on the phone last night tore me apart. I took several phone calls at Pixie's, sisters, parents, getting the last update, "haven't heard anything, the boys won't stop and take a break." When I hung up the phone, I finally did break down. Then, Jen came over. And I watched as she too, broke down, gave in to thinking about the worst, feeling the loss, the fear of the loss.

Jeffrey was in an article recently for pulling people out of a burning building. He's on my father's side, the closer family, the one we stay with and visit with and keep communication with. But I'm not going to go into that now. This isn't a fucking obituary. Jeffrey may still be alive. God, fucking God, I hope he is.

I honestly never thought it was possible to cry this much. Thank you for those of you who have sent your thoughts. It really is felt.

-Barbarella

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