When America was attacked in 2001, my family was hurt and forever changed, but not in the way you’re thinking. I’m a simple man and I made a name for myself in the years when a college education and computer know-how to qualify for working even in entry-level positions. I was smart, savvy, and good with my hands. My daughter doesn’t like when I talk about myself in the past tense, but she’s not here right now. She’s off living the life of a college student. Her future is rising up before my eyes over the horizon, and let me tell you: it’s going to be a bright, warm day.

When those planes hit those buildings, that was the end of life as we knew it in the Borski household. Like many middle class Americans, our family thrived during the Clinton years. WE were in the black as a nation and as a family. My wife, Priscilla, was a secretary at a local law firm and I was a trade show planner for Kodak. Those were the years of economic prosperity and we foolishly thought they’d never end, so we spent more than we saved. We gave our children an idyllic childhood一what every kid deserves. Disney World, air balloon festivals, unlimited access to the arts. What we didn’t consider, though, was saving for their futures. And this is where I failed them. Because of my irresponsible spending, they are going to be saddled with student loan debt so high that I doubt they’ll see an end to it before middle age. My kids, Izzy and Zach, think I’m too hard on myself. I don’t know how or why I was blessed with such good, honest kids, but I thank God every day of my life that they’re mine.

See my Izzy, she’s the oldest. Twenty years old and what a beautiful head she’s got on her shoulders. She’s been a nurturer since her little brother was born, maybe even before, it’s hard to tell with three year olds. My girl has wide, inquisitive eyes and she just wants to know everything about the world around her. She is kind, sweet, and generous and all I can say is that Priscilla and I did right by her, somehow. She is in her third year at Cornell, studying veterinary science with many more years of school ahead of her before she becomes Dr. Izzy: Veterinarian to the Stars. And in this case, the stars are all the creatures she’s setting out to care for, not not celebrity pets, though that is probably a lucrative field. She’s got scholarships, but not nearly enough to fund her entire education. By the time she’s done, I estimate she’ll be about $200,000 in the hole and I can only hope she’ll find a way out.

The world took a dizzying turn after 9/11. Like I said, I was working for Kodak at the time. I guess everyone just panicked, and rightly so, but panic also leads to rash decisions that are often wrong for everyone. Kodak was no different. There were mass layoffs. They believed that this terrible thing that happened to our country had destroyed us. They believed that no American would be interested in purchasing cameras and photo equipment in the wake of this devastation. What they didn’t account for was the resiliency of the American public. We as a nation banded together and fought to keep what we had going. Yes, the attacks bred new and toxic hatred of all kinds一innocent people suddenly became targets for the ignorant based on the brownness of their skin. But all in all, we stood tall and kept our country and our beliefs in tact. But I still lost my job.

Losing my job meant losing everything. Priscilla picked up a second job working nights and weekends as a waitress at a Greek restaurant and I lost hope. I spent too much time laying on the couch and dwelling on my failures as a man. Men are the providers. We earn. We give. Our children should want for nothing.

Priscilla tells me that it’s all in my head. She says she and the kids are just fine. I don’t know, it could all just be in my head, but I need to do something to show them that they’re my kids and I love them and I’d do anything for them.

Things are getting better now, though. I’ve come to grips with the fact that I will never be restored to my former glory. I relished the fast paced corporate world, but it kept me from my family. Now I’m running a little deli by our home and I get to go to all of Zach’s baseball games. I get to take Izzy’s calls whenever she decides to give me a ring. I’m rediscovering one of my youthful hobbies.

Cars. God, I love cars. Zach is my All-Star. Captain of the baseball team and head of the math team. He’s got brains and brawn and he’s all mine. My boy is on to be next year’s valedictorian and I couldn’t be more proud. My kids are rare gems in this world and they need to know it.

I bought this beat up old hunk of junk 1968 Camaro Z/28 on auction last year. I’ve been restoring it on the sly for Zach. Every man needs a muscle car at least once in his life. I’ve been searching around the net, junkyard, anywhere basically for the parts. Once I get that baby going, the engine revving, oh baby. I’m going to paint it candy apple red with a fat white stripe running down the middle.

I have to say that restoring this car has restored my soul better than any shrink could. At Priscilla’s request, I tried acupuncture, therapy, hell, even YOGA, to get my spirits back up. Turns out all I needed was a slew of Saturdays spent in the garage. Just me and the Camarao, blasting Springsteen, covered in grease, and building something with my own two hands to give to my boy. I may not be able to give him the world if I could, but he’ll just have to settle for a car this time around. I think it’s a good trade off.

I just hope I’m doing this part right. I’m not one for writing down my feelings or my day’s events, but when I saw the genuine worry in Izzy’s young eyes, I knew I had to do something to calm her fears. She gave me this journal and begged me to just give it a try. So there you have it. This is my try.

I feel foolish, but also like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. That’s my girl for you, always looking out for her daddy even when he thinks he doesn’t need it. I suppose I’ll keep this thing going for now. Maybe I’ll document the progress I’m making with the Camaro and the reaction I get out of Zach when he gets it.

Maybe it will be beautiful.

Maybe I’ll be able to look back at this little book and see a year of memories the will never be forgotten. Maybe I haven’t failed after all.