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In Case
"Lillian, I love you too. I know you'll never see this. I know you'll never get to read or hear those words ever again. It's not your fault, and I know you'd tell me it isn't mine either. I know you don't want me to be unhappy, and I'm trying my best for you my dear. I love you." She reads over her message.
She presses send. She stares for a moment at the screen, knowing a response won't come, but hoping those three typing dots appear. When they don't, she lets out a fresh sob to join the face already soaked with tears. She screams, burying her face in a pillow to muffle the sound. A mother never forgets.
---
He lays in bed with his wife next to him. Her head turned, back facing him. He turns over and thinks about laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. He reaches out, but does not touch her. How could he, when they are both so broken apart? He wants to love her, but it feels wrong with everything they've lost. How does one love when they can't love themselves?
He gathers himself out of bed and after preparing himself for another day, he feeds their daughter's dog. The small animal seems to sense a feeling of despair, for it has also fallen into a sadness. He pats the creature's head and offers the special treat of a meatball leftover from dinner. A tear slides down his cheek as he recalls how much his daughter loves... loved meatballs. A mother never forgets. A father remembers too.
---
They sit silently at their table, going through the evening motions. They eat a meal, wash the dishes, do the chores. He walks away the puppy tries to play, she dusts the furniture. The animal runs off, she continues her work. A voice down the hall begins to sing. Their child's favorite song. She lifts her head and closes her eyes, she knows the lyrics by heart. She walks down the hall and lays a hand on the doorknob to the room that once was her dear child's. The door is slightly ajar and the dog plays inside, having switched on the CD player that still contained the disc their daughter adored so much. She walks in for the first time in almost a month. The bed has a layer of dust atop it, her bookcase as well. The room is dark and has been the same since that fateful day it was left alone.
Since the fateful day their family broke. A mother never forgets. A father remembers too. A daughter never forgotten.
---
She laughed and their daughter played while he watched them with love in his eyes. He checked the watch and called to them to hurry up. The girl went inside to get her backpack, and her mother kissed her father's cheek. They walked their daughter to school, as they always did. Why drive when it only takes five minutes? Their spirits scream and plead, but it's too late. She walks into the building, with not a clue for what lay ahead. They go home, and around lunch time their hearts are chilled to the core. A loud bang and a few minutes later a ping came to her phone. Her face went pale. She reads the message aloud to him, and his eyes light up with fear.
"In case something happens, I love you both."
A million messages after that, none read by their child. A simple reply broke their hearts.
"Active shooter. love you both."
A second after the message was read their hearts sank and another bang filled their ears. They were too far away, they couldn't help, their child was stuck at a loss! They ran as fast as they can, their feet pounding as loud as their hearts. They reach the school in three minutes this time, but still not quick enough. Another bang, police cars and sirens, their ears ring. They hear screams from inside the school, children crying and trying to run. Teachers flanked by young kids run out, none of them older than 12. Their eyes scan the crowds of tear stained faces, none of them are their daughter's. Anxiety gets high, they cannot breathe, parents and neighbors are watching the scene. Another bang! More screams! Please don't let it be my child, she pleads. He tries not to cry and hugs her close.
Hours later and a damage report. The news trucks are at the scene.
Four dead.
26 injured.
The shooter shot themselves.
Among the deceased, their precious little girl. They see her body brought out, she screams and buries her face in his shoulder. He sobs and holds her close.
---
Less than a month later, she sits on the bed in her baby's room. She feels a hand on her shoulder, and turns to face him. He smiles and she motions for him to sit. He wraps his arms around her, and a feeling they both can sense emerges. A mutual agreement not to let this drive them apart. She leans her head on his shoulder and they read the last words they ever saw their daughter say. She begins to type a final message, a farewell of sorts. She searches for the right things to say and he whispers to her these words;
"A mother never forgets. A father remembers too. A daughter never forgotten. A family broken but loving for you."
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This piece goes out to those who are suffering child loss and also those who are living in fear as act after act of horrific gun violence occurs around the U.S. My heart is with you and I pray for a better future for all of us.