It was one of those days that in a cops family, you know will eventually come. You try and prepare yourself for it, day after day, knowing that when you least expect it, it will come. It will come with more power than expected, and it will tear down your walls one at a time until you're so vulnerable that you'll break down because someone gave you a sympathetic look.
She was at school that day, trying to stay awake in Chemistry like she does every other day. She said goodbye to her parents like she does everyday, and even had a civilized conversation with her mother for once. She didn't think that buy 6th hour, her whole entire world would come crashing down on her. Every cop in New York City knew who she was, and when two of them showed up at her school, she knew they couldn't possibly be bringing her good news.
"We need to talk..."
Well if that didn't start raising red flags, then the sorrowful look on their faces did. What good came from someone starting a conversation with "We need to talk..."? Nothing.
She doesn't remember the car ride to the hospital all that much. She remembers focusing on trying to stop her hands from shaking so much. She tried to take a drink of water that one of the officers gave her, but the cup was basically empty when the it touched her lips.
She just prayed to God that she was okay. She had never asked God for anything, except maybe to keep her parents safe when she was younger, but it stopped when she got older. At this moment in time, she doesn't even know if she believes in Him. Why would He do this to her? Wasn't He supposed to protect everyone?
When she pushed the ER doors aside, she noticed the ER was full of people. There was so many blue uniforms, her vision started to blur. One stood out in particular when she noticed her parents' captain, Deakins, making his way towards her. She hadn't noticed the tears that were falling down her face until he pulled her in an embrace and whipped them away.
"What happened?" Deakins looked as if he had been crying himself.
"She's in surgery. They...don't know much yet."
She looked around the room, trying to block on the blue uniforms. "Where's my dad?"
"He's in the bathroom. He..had to change. Wash up."
Realization dawned on her as she pictured her mother lying in her fathers arms begging for him to help her. To tell her daughter she loved her, and that she loved him.
"Dad!" She saw him walk out of the mens room, his face pale. His eyes had a red rim around them, clearly showing the misery he felt. His head turned towards his daughter, and the tears that he had just finished crying, were making their way out again.
She practically jumped into his arms once they reached each other. She clung to him, her nails digging into his back, as she sobbed into his chest. As if one cue, and the one question she would begin to hate, he asked if she was okay.
"No," She choked out. "She's going to be alright dad, right?"
He closed his eyes, and felt his heart break just a little bit more.
"Please, Dad. Please..."
He could only hold her, he couldn't promise her something he knew wasn't true.
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Turns out she wasn't okay. She made it through surgery, but as soon as they brought her to recovery, she flat lined and they weren't able to bring her back. Today was the day she was going to be buried, and she was just trying to get herself though the day. Her father and her walked around on eggshells around the house. Every corner they turned, everywhere they looked they were reminded of her.
She tried talking to her father about it, but it was like a piece of him had died too. He wouldn't eat, he would just pretend for his daughters sake. And at night, when he thought she was sleeping, he would lie in bed and cry for hours and hours. He tried to bury himself in his work, but he found that difficult too because he couldn't do it without her. He'd look across his desk to ask her a question to be reminded that she wasn't there. She wasn't coming back.
They hadn't said more than five words to each other today. No more then ten the whole week. Her grandfather tried talking to her father a few times, but after awhile he just quit answering the phone. He didn't seem to care about anything anymore. Especially himself. During the day,
when his daughter wasn't home, he would stay in his bed all day. When she came home, he got up and tried to make things as normal as possible. But it was getting too tiring and hard. He just couldn't do it anymore.
Things weren't going any better for his daughter. She would go to school, and her first day back she got more "I'm sorry's" than she did at the hospital. She couldn't take it. She was trying to go on with her life, but everyone kept bringing it up and making it harder on her.
She tried telling herself that these kinds of things happen all the time. That it was an accident. It was no one's fault except the man who had killed her. He was a psycho out for revenge and she was the first person he came upon. She swore, and yelled at God the first couple of days. Then she was on her knees crying, begging for His help. She was so lost and confused, she didn't know what was right. God knows her father sure wasn't helping her out.
She drove herself to the cemetery, so she would be able to stay longer than the others. She hoped her father would leave, so she could stay with her mother. Talk to her, ask for answers. Just hope that she'll be able to close her eyes, and wake up from this terrible nightmare.
Everyone did leave which she had hoped for. She was standing next to her headstone, staring at it hoping that it would just disappear. "Loving daughter, wife, and mother" was what she read, and knew that was just the half of it. She fought with her mother 85% of the time they were in the same vicinity but she loved her mother more than anything. She bought her prom dress last month with her, and they had actually had a good day. She used to take her into the squad room when she was little to see her "other" family as they called them. She would smile at her mom,
telling her she wanted to grow up and be just like her.
The memories came flooding back so quickly, and flashed through her mind that she became overwhelmed. She fell to her knees in front of the headstone and clinged to it. She cried and watched her tears fall to the ground and soak into the soil.
"Mom...please, don't do this to us." Her chest was going tight, and she tried inhaling deeply to find she couldn't. "Please...we can't do this without you. Come back..."
It was rainy that day, which she wasn't surprised about. It had been rainy all week, including the day she died. She pulled the hood up on her sweatshirt and she kneeled next to her mother. Her tears were mixing with the rain and the roses on top of her grave were blowing away with the fiece wind. They were mixing with the wind, free to go wherever they pleased.
"She told me to tell you that she loved you."
Without looking up, she nodded her head tried to whipe away her tears. "I loved her too. So much..."
Her father fell to his knees next to her and broke down crying. "I loved her too sweetheart..."
She held her father in his arms as he cried, trying to comfort him.
"I just don't understand...."
"I don't either."
They sat there for awhile, just holding each other until their sobs started to subside. They sat there in the rain with their wife and mother, just to be in her presence.
"You think we'll be okay?" She whispered it, almost afraid to ask.
"I think so..." He took his daughters hand in his, and turned to look in her eyes. "She'd want us to."
She looked away from his intense gaze, and back to her mothers grave. "I wish I hadn't fought with her so often. I loved her so much, I hope she knew."
"She did, sweetheart. And she loved you very much too."
"I'm always going to cherish our memories." She looked up towards the sky. "I just wish I could make more with her. This isn't fair."
"I know." The rain started coming down much harder now. Drenching both of them in a matter of seconds, but neither made the move to start making the way to the car.
"Can we stay just a bit longer?"
"Of course."
She sat on the side of the grave where her father would be buried one day. She held his hand,
and was thankful that one of her parents was still here.
Last year, one of her classmates parents died and she felt so bad for her. She remembers thanking God that it wasn't one of her parents. The girl couldn't make it through the day without having to step out of a room to cry. She lost so much weight, and she constatnly looked sick. She did eventually start slowly looking better but it took a lot of time. She never fully understood the pain she was in, until she was put in the situation. You feel as if you'll never make it through the night, that you're mom with come walking through the door and it was all just a terrible, terrible dream. But it wasn't. It was a very real nightmare.
"I love you, Hannah."
She closed her eyes, and took her father hand that he offered to help her up. She looked let her gaze settle on her mother's grave for a few moments before she turned to her father and tried to offer him a small smile.
"I love you too, daddy."
Her father leaned down and kissed his hand before placing it on the dirt for a few seconds. A few stray tears fell off his face, but nothing more. She began to think that he didn't have any tears left. He said a few words that she couldn't make out and felt her heart break at her fathers heartache. He stood up and backed away from the grave to give some time to his daughter.
She sighed, and took a deep breath before she said her goodbyes. "I love you, mom. I always, and forever will. I miss you already, so much. I think we're going to be okay."
It was so hard to say goodbye.
"Goodbye, mom."
She stayed for a few more seconds, before she turned to face her father and they started walking towards their cars. Her hand slipped into his, needing the comfort.
"What did she say? You know...in your arms. Before..they took her away."
"She said she loved us both very much."
She nodded. "Anything else?"
She saw a small smile appear on her father's face and she surprised, to say the least. Before he let her go to her own car, he turned to her with both of her hands in his.
"She said, Don't worry about me."