Narrative

In Just A Moment

                My world came crashing down on Wednesday January 11, 2001.  When I woke up it was just another day.  The weather was typical for North California; it was sunny and hot with slight humidity and no chance of rain.  Later on that Wednesday my world was rocked forever.  As a little girl, my understanding was muddy but the one thing I heard was that my daddy was gone.  Daddy wasn’t coming home thanks to a paranoid schizophrenic with agoraphobia and voices in his head.  I couldn’t tell you what was happening around me.  Everything had faded away as my world came crashing down around me.  Of course, I wasn’t the only one who had their heart ripped out.  I remember seeing my mom fall.  I had never seen her so broken; the woman who wiped away my tears when I fell or kissed my bruised knees was no longer in front of me.  Instead was a broken, sobbing woman at my feet.  She called out to me and I went to her.  We sat there and she held me as she tried to explain things to me.  I remember asking questions, "where's daddy?  What do you mean gone?  He’s coming back right?"  No one wanted to answer my questions, to explain to me that I would never see my daddy again.   

It wasn’t until later that I was able to understand, and when I did I wish I wouldn’t have known.   Earlier that day my dad had gone to work.  He was the manager of our local Lyons.  While he was working, a man came in demanding to speak to the manager.  At the time no one knew what was going on in his head.  The man was convinced that the restaurant had tried to poison him.  That wasn’t true, but the voices in his head convinced him otherwise.  As my daddy went over to speak to this man, he was shot.  He never even had the chance to flinch. The man aimed, shot and it was over.   That one fateful day was enough to shake and shape the rest of my life. 

To say that the next year was dark would be an understatement.  My family and I mourned, but somehow we moved on.  We can always move on but we never forget.  I began to lean very heavily on my mom, but I couldn’t even begin to imagine how she felt.  One thing became very apparent, I was changed.  No longer a loud friendly child, a grudge had taken over my heart and I became a shy lost person.  I didn’t feel like a child anymore.  I had my childlike looks and speech but my thoughts and views became very grown up very fast.  I grew up and saw the world as a scary dark place.  My mom did the best to give me a normal childhood; but I didn’t want that I wanted to mature and help her. 

As life moved on, we moved too.  I was taken from my sunny home of California and thrown into a snowy and foreign Ohio.  A place with only memories of my great grandparents’ house on holidays, a place to start fresh.  If there was anything I hated in the world it was snow.  The move was terrible, seven long days in eighteen wheelers and different hotels every night.  Once we got to Ohio, everyone tried to look on the bright side.  My grandparents had moved in with my mom brother and I.  They were born in Ohio and their parents lived in Ohio so they were ecstatic.  I couldn’t tell you how my mom felt, if she was miserable like me then she hid it very well.  I would never tell you that I fell in love with Ohio, but even to this day I can say that it has maybe grown on me. 

Slowly but surely, life got easier.  I stopped trying to be the grown up and tried to lighten my heart.  I grew up in church and accepted Jesus and Christianity from a young age.  If it weren’t for God and my family I would never have tried to be myself again.  I remember the hope I saw in my mom’s eyes when I told her that I accepted Jesus into my heart.  It was a year after our move and casually I spilled out “Momma, I’m going to go to Heaven one day and I’ll be with daddy.” I could have said so much more but that was all that seemed necessary.  From that day forward, I became a happier child.  I knew that my views on life would never be the same, and I accepted that.  Acceptance, that’s all I ever needed it’s the best gift that could ever be given.  It allowed me to move on and live the way I can now, and for that I am very thankful.