In Memoriam:Christopher Paul Slattery, age 31

January 26, 2007 -- I have noticed that some people are finding this page through Google searches on Chris' name. I can only assume that you knew him. I would be honored if you would leave a comment about him and who he was in your life.

September 11, 2006

With the passing of Christopher Paul Slattery, a son died. A brother died. A nephew died. A cousin died. A friend died. A colleague died. A brother-in-law died. An uncle died. His family, friends, and co-workers can tell you far more about the life Chris lived than I ever could. So let us pause now and think about the life he did not live.

Chris was a son who never got to toast his parents' 50th wedding anniversary. He will not be there to help his parents when they are old, to support their faltering steps as they supported his first ones. He will never introduce the love of his life to his mother and father; he won't hear his father's advice and jokes about marriage, and he won't see his mother's eyes shining with proud tears at his wedding.

Chris was a brother who will never send Dan another whimsical IM; he will never make Erin laugh again. He will never fill their hearts with love as they watch him play with their children. He will never see those children grow up, graduate high school, get married.

Chris was a friend who will never host another tailgate party; he'll never see another Giants or Rangers game. He and his cousin Tim will never open their pie-in-the-sky bar and restaurant. He will never see another parade go down Fifth Avenue. He will never fly another kite on Nantucket.

Chris was a colleague who will never broker the most important deal of the year, work on the division's biggest project, or simply make sure the day-to-day details are moving smoothly.


Christopher Slattery was a son and a brother, a nephew and a cousin, a brother-in-law and an uncle, a friend and a colleague. But he will never be a husband and a father. He will never feel his heart skip a beat when the phone rings with a certain tone; he will never have butterflies in his stomach when he asks someone to share her life with him. He will never know the wonder of becoming a father, of falling in love all over again, this time with someone so tiny as to be unbelievable.

From all accounts, when Chris died, the world lost a gentle, kind man with a wonderful sense of humor, a man who "lived life large and packed it full." He will always be remembered by those who knew him. Let us also remember what Chris lost, the opportunities for love and laughter and living.

Read more about Chris Slattery:

• Cantor Fitzgerald Family Memorials
• Irish Tribute
• Legacy.com guestbook
• Legacy.com profile
• Newsday.com profile

Read other tributes from project 2,996.

Blogger's note: I decided to join project 2,996 because I am a widow. While I cannot begin to fathom the horror of those whose loved ones died in the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, I do understand their deep pain and enduring sense of loss. Because I am a young widow, with young children, I mourn the future without my husband, without my children's father, far more than I mourn the past that we shared. It is from that perspective that I decided to write this memorial.