Pauline O'Connor does her damnedest to stay strong and bubbly - always the one to remain in control and to take care of the rest of her family.

But look behind her lively exterior and you see the tremendous hurt and sadness that nobody's eyes could ever hide.

When she thinks no one is watching, her smile disappears, her eyes become cloudy and she wanders off into a world of her own for just a few minutes.

She is tired. And she needs to grieve.

In the space of just two months, she has lost her brother Boyd Gatton in the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, followed soon after by the death of her only other sibling, her sister Sharon Smith, who died after a battle with cancer.

She blames both deaths on 9.11.

The road is long, and for the moment, Pauline can see no end in sight, but she is focussing on the job at hand. She must stay strong for her family and remain composed so she can pack up Boyd's New Jersey apartment and tie up his affairs.

Since the moment she heard the twin towers had been hit by suicide plane hijackers on September 11, Pauline has been the one to take hold of the reigns.

But she said she would not have had it any other way. She wants to make sure that everything is done right for her "baby brother".

Apart from returning to Bermuda just prior to her sister's death on November 7, Pauline has stayed alone at Boyd's Park View apartment, situated in a quiet, leafy, old part of Jersey City, where she is dealing with her emotions the best way possible.

She has become well acquainted with all of Boyd's friends; she shops in the same stores; cooks at the same stove and sleeps in the same bed. In many ways, she is living in the middle of her brother's world, but the stark reality is that he will never be there to share it with her again.

Around her are reminders of what has been. A calendar on the wall reads her work so far, such as "death certificate", "memorial", "fax memorial papers".

And papers, reports and maps graphically detailing the tragic events of September 11 are filed away on Boyd's desk. Pauline thumbs through them with amazing ease.

She has probably read them so often, she now almost seems unmoved by the detail.

Sitting in an armchair in the small, compact living room cum office, which is decorated with Samurai swords, books, framed photographs and two full sets of encylopaedias, Pauline said: "I don't let myself cry. I worry that if I start to cry, I won't stop.

"The only way I can sort everything out for Boyd is by detaching myself from the emotion of what has happened.

"I do know what's happened, it's not like I'm kidding myself. I know it's real because he simply does not walk through the door of this apartment anymore - that is a severe reality to me. But I can't let myself think about it too much because I simply would not be able to get up and do anything.

"I have ten years of Boyd's life in New York to close up. I have to keep myself together so I can get it done and then I can go back home to my family in Bermuda. Then we can begin to rebuild our lives again."

There are things that Pauline has clung to in her darkest hours since September 11. She takes solace from the many friends Boyd had and from the many facets of his life which are still obvious around his home, including his unfinished carpentry, closet full of tools, Tai Chi books, cameras, and computer.

On the day she arrived at his apartment following the tragedy, there had been 53 missed calls to his apartment and a voicemail filled with messages from concerned friends. Pauline returned every call she could in a desperate bid to piece his life back together again.

Perhaps the greatest therapy of all has been a journal she began on the day she and her youngest daughter Rukiya first arrived in New Jersey following the tragedy on September 20.

Each evening, even now, she writes to Boyd to explain her day and to express how she is feeling.

Some days there is much to say, and others, there is little. It depends on her mood.

But no matter what, the book makes sad reading.

One entry reads: "Michael, your neighbour, called down today. He cried."

Another simply states: "Not feeling too good today, Boyd. I will write tomorrow."

One of the memories Pauline holds dearest, which is obvious in her journal, is a memorial service held for Boyd on his 39th birthday on October 8, which was organised by the Cincinatti Masonic Lodge in New Jersey, where Boyd was a member.

More than 200 people turned out to pay their respects, and one of Boyd's former neighbours, Tanny, drove all the way up from Baltimore for the service, before turning around and beginning the four-hour journey home again in the same day.

It may have seemed like a small thing to Tanny, but to Pauline it meant the world. She knew her brother had been dearly loved.

A sheepskin apron and piece of fir tree, symbolising strength, given to her by the lodge are to be framed and brought back to Bermuda. They are just some of the treasures the family will always hold dear.

It is unlikely that Pauline will properly let go and allow herself to grieve for both her brother and sister until she arrives back in Bermuda within the next couple of weeks.

However, she believes she has now said goodbye to both of them.

"I let go of Boyd and had my closure on the day of the World Trade Center Memorial on October 28," said Pauline.

"That was when I said my goodbyes. It was very hard, but I had to let go. I knew we were never going to get him back.

"Five friends or relatives from each of the victims were invited to attend the service, so we decided to have somebody there to represent the different parts of Boyd's life.

"I was there for blood, his girlfriend Audrey was there, Will Garcia his best friend in New York was there, and his best friend from Bermuda, Melacot and his partner Margaret, came across."

The family of each victim was given an urn of dust and sand from the debris at the site, along with an American flag.

Pauline said the flag she gave to Will, so he could fly it high in New Jersey, and the 'ashes' they took to the Hudson River, just feet away from the site where her brother died.

She said: "That was a very hard day. We each took flowers and we scattered the ashes and the flowers into the river.

"We all cried. We said our farewells that day. I think I got closure then."

But Pauline believes the hardest day is still to come.

The day she has to leave New Jersey and her brother's life in American behind.

She added: "The hardest day for me will be when I walk out of the apartment and close the door behind me for the last time.

"I think we will definitely stay in touch with Boyd's friends in New Jersey, which will be nice. Boyd will live on in those new friendships. We have become close and they have helped me enormously.

"This Christmas will be very hard, but in the New Year we will have a new start. I think we all need a new start."

Amazingly, Pauline is not angry and she holds no hatred towards Bin Laden. She has inner-peace. A true believer in God, she thinks September 11 was the work of Satan and that the issue is much bigger than any terrorist, or the loss of her brother.

She said: "I can do nothing about it. I cannot beat it, so I cannot be angry. I just think the whole episode is very sad," she said.