Everything was different after they died.
It was like someone took our hope and painted it black. Now we walk like shadows in the daytime, getting farther and farther away from the light that kept us warm.
I didn’t cry when it happened...and I regret it every day.
Instead of tears, I simply stood there in the rain, gripping my step-mom's hand as the men in black lowered the only family I've ever known into the ground.
How could this happen to me? Did God not like me anymore?
I didn't know what to do. I was broken. I was cold. I was numb.
There wasn't any sickness. No time to prepare. There was only death and sadness. There was only the unknown future standing beside us, ready to swallow us whole.
And though I didn't understand it at the time...this tragic day of sorrow would change my life forever.
