A solitary tear rolls down his face. The memories flooding through his brain cause a familiar heartache felt by him many times before. He sits on the stairs, motionless, trying to breathe through what felt like belonged to an every day smoker. He is mortally wounded by the phone call from his brother, so similar to a time long ago. The phone call, when his brother’s first child died at only 10 months old was very hard on him, but this was worse. He’s had many family members taken away by death; his first nephew, his father, countless other things, and now, his mother. It was a quick and painless death for her, but he knew it would torture him each and every day for the rest of his life.
Being a father, a husband, and an uncle, he thought more terrifying thoughts about his family and the heart breaking news. His wife wasn’t home to comfort him, and the silence of the house encouraged his dire thoughts. He didn’t know what he could do, or what to think; all he wanted was to disappear after every question that came to his mind. The distance created when he moved across the world created a separation for the two of them that was plenty to deal with, but death was a difficult thing to escape. How was he going to tell his daughter that the woman that she loved, respected, and cared for more than anyone else in the world is now dead? His heart warned him by making him feel faint; trying to teach him that such a question was one that needed to be pushed away as quickly as possible. He hastily drifted to other feelings that consumed him for hours, mainly guilt, denial, and misunderstanding. Exhausted, he went to lie in bed, attempting to sleep the agony away, but he lay restless, wondering why God would let this happen.
Deep in painful thoughts with his eyes closed, he heard a car made a hoot; signifying that its doors were locked. Someone was home, but he continued lying there without a single movement, as if he was paralyzed in a deep sleep. His sorrow seemed to have become a part of the house, because everything in it seemed so lifeless. A door opened down stairs, and soon another person’s presence gave his mind a distraction, there was a sudden noise of tossing car keys on the kitchen table which lead him to believe it was his daughter, because that was a routine she followed after arriving home from school every day. She then let out a long sigh and an unclear mumble as she walked towards the stairs, saying something about how she had a lot of homework. Her footsteps were heavier each step she took. She must have had a rough day, probably many tests planned for the week ahead. He listened to her making her way closer towards the master bedroom, and finally stopped crying. He didn’t want her to see him like this; it was too soon to tell her. When she checked the room to see if her mother or father was home, the best thing he could do was make it seem like nothing was wrong. He acted like he was sleeping so that he had time to get through the overly emotional state that he was in, before he had to tell his child the upsetting news. He wanted to be strong and assure his daughter it would be okay when he told her, but that time was not now. He wasn’t certain if it would ever come.
He thought he’d be prepared for the death of someone that he loved, because it had happened to him before. He noted that he was wrong, and dreaded watching his daughter feel such suffering. As a father, putting her through this would destroy everything he’d worked so hard to do. The job of protecting his daughter or other family members from such unthinkable tragedy was his first priority. He decided to tell her at the dinner table when his wife was home and when the effects of his mother’s death decreased severity slightly. Later that night, when he brought the bad news to the table, he couldn’t say anything to comfort his daughter, because there was nothing he knew of that would. His mother was an angel on earth; he always wished that she would follow the Father’s commands on Earth forever. The only thing that he could think of saying after just sitting there watching his daughter and mother hand in hand with tears streaming down their faces for a while was, “It’s life, and we were all put on this earth by God for to live, and so was your Grandmother.” His daughter replied with a weak voice, “but Granny’s dead now,” arguing with his only sympathetic words he could come up with, but he then remembered one thing his mother told him when both his father and his nephew died. Answering his daughter; this time with a stronger tone knowing the truth behind his words, he said, “She gave God what He asked; fulfilling every request that he had for her, and her death in the world only meant that she was ready for God’s never ending gift of life in heaven, to serve everyone on earth with Him by her side.”
He knew at that moment that his mother, and everyone he had ever cared for who died, was surrounding him and his daughter. Doing his job for him, since he was weak and unable, the angels delivered a sense of protection and peace to the family. Their hearts were broken for some time, but they kept their faith in God. After hearing those words of wisdom spoken by an angel in Heaven not too long ago, his daughter then replied to him, fighting her pain away, that she would continue to live her life striving to win every war that God has made every human being soldiers for. The many wars ahead that she would fight with the Devil and his little helper: Death.