The day my mother died was the worst day of my life.
I was 9, and my birthday was a few days away. It was an cold, breezy mid-afternoon in late January, and I had school of because of ice on the roads. My mother was coming home from her work, and it was only about 10 miles away. I had always thought that my mother would return safely, no matter what. Her pick-up truck was sturdy and when if she did get in a crash, she would be safe, I thought. I had looked out the window, waiting, until she was about 45 minutes late getting home. Yes, the conditions on the roads were horrible, but she had always gotten home in around 20 minutes. It never took her this long, even if there was fog, a blizzard, or a thunderstorm.
She had always returned safely to me.
But this time she didn't.
When my father got home a few minutes later, he gazed around the house and then at me. "Skylar.. Where is your mother?" He asked, and I saw his brown eyes fill with worry.
"I don't know.. she's late coming home from her work," I replied, running to him. He took a deep breath then pulled me in and kissed my forehead. "We're going to find her." He murmured, and I shook my head, even though by now something must've been seriously wrong.
We got in his car and drove slowly to her work. The wind was blowing the snow from the ground into the air, making it nearly impossible to see.
"Father... what if she... she..." I said, glancing up at my father. His jaw was set in place, like it did when he was determined to do something, and his eyes stared straight ahead. "We will find her, Skylar. Trust me." He moved his hand on top on mine and let out a tiny sigh.
"We will find her," he repeated, and I knew that now he was just trying to reassure himself that Mother was safe and probably just working late or something. Maybe she had even went to the store and got us a surprise, something like that organic crap she was always eating.
We drove for a few more miles, until my father stopped the car suddenly, pulling onto the side of the road.
"What's wrong?" asked, gripping the car handle in case my mother would need me... "She's gone, Sky." Father grabbed my arm before I could open the car door and run out onto the road.
"It was a car accident," he whispered, turning his head to me, and his eyes were filled with sorrow. "But... she was always there for us. Always.." I cried, feeling tears run down my cheeks.
"I know. But some people are too good that God wants to have them with him earlier, instead of waiting their whole lifetime," Father said, his voice cracking, and I realized that he was crying. He had never cried before, at least in front of me. Never. I saw a tear run his face, the beautiful silver of it reflecting his misery.
"You really think that she went to Heaven? With God?" I whispered, my voice barley audible.
"Yes. Yes, I do, Sky."