He stood in front of her coffin as the cool rain fell from the morning sky and soaked his face, mingling silently with his warm tears and hiding the emotions from the people around him. He shivered painfully in spite of the warm layers he'd made sure to wear, knowing a cold winter storm was brewing in the air. He sighed as he listened to her two best friends singing the beautiful song they'd choosen to honor her with this day. There was never a truer song to describe the way he felt about his daughter after her death. She was more than a hero to him though... she was his life... and now she was gone.
He would never forget those three days in the hospital with her. It had been nearly a week since he said goodbye and ushered her down to that lonely morgue before walking out of the hospital to a new life, a life without her. Those memories still haunted his nightmares and that phonecall -- the one from the night of the accident -- that call played itself over and over in his mind. Had he known the fate that awaited her that night he would have never let her go.
He stared down at the paper he held in his hands and smiled slightly at the picture on the page. There she was, whole and beautiful, staring up at him beneath the words he never in a million years imagined he'd read in reference to his own flesh and blood.
And beneath those words the quote he'd found on one of her projects shortly after her death.
"That there are no random acts. That we are all connected. That you can no more separate one life from another than you can separate a breeze from the wind... It is because the human spirit knows, deep down, that all lives intersect. That death doesn't just take someone, it misses someone else, and in the small distance between being taken and being missed... lives are changed. -- Mitch Albom
He'd paused stunned and read the quote again and again. He couldn't help but wonder if somehow his daughter had known... known more than he could ever have imagined.
The service had been a beautiful tribute to his daughter's spirit and life. The entire church had been decorated with her favorite white and red roses and her friends, both from high school and from college had shared photographs and memories of the fun times they'd had with her. There were photo albums and scrapbooks lining the altar and a beautiful photograph one of her best friends had taken two weeks before her death was placed in a frame and was sitting right on top of her closed casket. Her beautiful green eyes shining brightly, her smile... her beauty.
He'd struggled more that day than any other moment in this entire tragedy. When the time had come to close the lid on his daughter's life... he couldn't do it. He'd broken down completely for the first time and had to be comforted by the funeral home director and one of his cousins. He'd never imagined that being the hardest part but it had been... he knew the moment that casket was closed, he would never ever be able to see her again. A solidification of his very worst fear. The way her dimples showed when she smiled at him. The way her eyes shined when she told him of her latest adventures... the way her beautiful curls bounced around when she was happiest. He'd never see any of those things again.
He shifted slightly on his feet as he felt the moist ground sink below him. He watched as the pall barers helped lower her body into the cold, wet earth. He didn't have the strength to move in and help them... he could barely stand on his own two feet.
The only thing bringing comfort to him these days were the letters he'd received from each hospital thanking him for his gift and sending their condolences. Those letters had revealed little information other than to say each recipient was doing well. He would not get to meet any of them for a long time... if ever, but his heart ached to know who his daughter had saved. Whose lives his Lauren was living on in.
He sighed as he watched the guests one by one step up and toss a single rose onto her casket below. He wiped the tears from his eyes and slowly sauntered over to drop his own. He couldn't make sense of any of this... the feeling of peace and comfort was with him every now and then but other times the pain seemed so strong and real and endless that he would gladly climb into the grave beside his daughter and accept eternal sleep. He just had to keep reminding himself that life was for living and his daughter's life had not been meaningless.
He had to remind himself everyday that his daughter was still with him... in heart... in soul... in spirit.
She was a hero... his hero.
