The rain tapped on my windshield and my windshield wipers squeaked as I navigated my blue soccer mom van down the darkened highway. In absolute disbelief of my current reality. The day started out like any other. I got up, read my Bible, and had a few moments of quiet time with Jesus while sipping delicious vanilla coffee. Then I went to work at the local elementary school. Where I handed out a spelling list, read stories, and answered hundreds of questions from my third-grade students who constantly called my name, Ms. Grant, in their Mickey Mouse voices. Only to return home and continue pleasing little people. I cooked my sons their favorite one-pot meal, spaghetti. Then completed my nightly routine with the boys Blake and Byron. Finally, after they were both down for the count to daylight. I called my father for our nightly chat while I picked up the boys’ backpacks and the various messes they had made in the short time we had all been home. 

​

Only Dad didn't answer his phone. Strangely, my mother had. Mom and I talked regularly as well. During my chats with dad he often would have me on speakerphone or hand the phone over to her for me to have a mother, daughter talk. This was strange to me tonight, though, because Mom had picked his phone up first. "Hello. Krystina?" she said in a tone I could tell she had been crying. 

"Mom?" I asked out of pure confusion in a shaking voice that matched hers. It was as if I were questioning if the woman on the end of the line really was my mother. 

“Yes, honey, it's me,” she sniffled. Mom was usually stoic. Something had to be incredibly wrong for her to be crying. My heart rate sped up. The only thing I could think to say is, what's wrong? My voice sounded odd. Like it was coming from someone else and wasn't my own. 

Mom was silent for several seconds. Then she inhaled deeply and spat out the worst news my ears had ever heard. "Daddy's gone." When I didn't speak, she rushed on. "I'm still here in the emergency room, dear. Daddy had a heart attack. The ambulance brought him in, but I'm so sorry to have to tell you he is no longer with us.”Immediately, tears streamed down my face and I slumped against the closet chair in my living room, feeling like someone had suddenly jerked a giant rug out from under my feet. My mind had to be playing a dirty trick on me. What I thought I heard couldn't be what was actually said. There couldn't be any truth in her words. Nothing was ever going to happen to daddy; he was my hero and always would be by my side. He told me so many times in all of my twenty-nine years.

 All I could say when I gathered myself enough to speak was, “I'm coming.” I heard a faint "ok." And the line went dead. I sat in pure shock, unable to move for what felt like forever. The room was lit only by a table lamp's soft glow. Finally deciding I was wrong. My ears were deceiving me. I pulled my running shoes out of the basket next to my favorite TV watching spot and slipped my feet in them. I felt like I was moving in slow motion, but knew I had to move. If this was a nightmare, maybe moving around would wake me up. 

I was now on the road to my parents’ home, two hours away late at night. When I found my feet and stood, I went to gather the kids up. We had to get to the car as quickly as possible and head out. A sensible mother would have either called a neighbor or friend to come sit with her children while they slept, or waited till morning. I certainly wasn't thinking straight and waiting wasn't an option now. I had to get to mom as soon as possible. After the phone call and I took a few minutes to pull myself together somewhat, I hurried into the kids' room, woke them up while I was slipping socks and shoes on their cold toes, wrapped a jacket over their shoulders. Told them to grab a blanket too because it was the first of October in Texas and the nights were chilly. Their sleepy little faces must have seen that I was in a panic mode because they hadn't questioned me at all. They just went along with what I was asking and climbed into the back of the car in their matching SpongeBob pajamas. How was I going to explain to them that their grandpa would not be taking fishing trips with them anymore or sitting in the bleachers at their football games when they were older? I couldn't explain it just yet, especially when I didn't have a good grasp on what was actually happening. All I knew at that moment was to get them in the car, keep them warm and drive to my parents' country home. 

I didn't know what I was going to do when I got there yet. I just knew I had to be home. 

I had moved away from the tiny town of Crossley for bigger and better things, but coming back, it always felt like home. Like I fit in. The world was large and unsafe, but there I was, always safe. Now I couldn't imagine that it would feel good to ever be back. It would be so empty without daddy. Tears fell again, matching the rain. Sniffling, I turned the radio on and flipped over to my favorite Christian station. The sounds of amazing grace filled the car. I must have been concentrating on the words as I sang along because suddenly all I saw was the blinding light coming toward me. I reacted by slamming on the brakes and swerving the steering wheel to the right. The car made a screeching sound, but with the momentum of the speed I was going; it took too long for the car to halt. I could smell the burning rubber. Everything was happening so fast, I couldn’t stop it. The last thing I remember seeing was the grass whizzing by my window as the car was jumping around like one of the boy’s hot wheels. The van must have rolled at least four or five times before finally coming to a halt, driver side up. I was only being held in place by my seatbelt but couldn’t move as I struggled against all the pressure of the tightened cloth. All I could think about was the boys who I had buckled in the backseat over an hour ago. I hadn't heard a peep from them during the crash, and nothing still. I called for them but my voice was a whisper like I was In a library. Then everything went black. 

Keeping track of time was a failure at the moment. I kept going in and out of consciousness. When I came to once, I heard the wail of sirens. I kept going in and out of consciousness. I had tried once to turn around and check on my boys, but couldn’t move. My chest hurt every time I tried to inhale a small breath. I then realized that not only the seatbelt was my problem but that I couldn't move. The plastic of the crushed dash trapped my right leg. I could still feel both legs, considering the excruciating pain running all the way from my toes to the top of my hip. Oh dear God, please let us be alright.  

“Captain, there’s a gas leak! We have to get them out quickly,” I heard someone yell 

He had said them. That meant the boys were still inside. The vehicle hadn’t tossed them to the outside elements. First good news I heard all day. Thank goodness I had spent the extra eighty bucks on car seats that had specifically tested in rollover crash scenarios. Never had I imagined we would be involved in one, but something had told me spending the extra cash would pay off. I still couldn’t open my eyes, and I tried to speak, but my voice was silent. I'm confused by what was happening, but strangely not in a high state of panic. Everything would work out. It had to. The Lord had me and the boys. He would send his angels. He was with the brave men fighting to save us. We all three were going to stay alive to live another day. Amongst the noise, outside the car, the radio still was playing quietly. I could barely make out the words, but they brought me comfort as the crunching of metal on metal and a machine buzzed. It was unclear what was happening. I felt a hand rest on my shoulder and a deep, kind voice said to me. “Your children are out. They're ok. Just keep fighting, mama they need you.” 

Thank you Jesus, the boys made it out. I wasn’t sure if the accident had caused them to be injured, but at least I knew they were alive and not trapped in a metal mousetrap. When I got out of here, I was going to make a big batch of cookies for the men who had risked their own lives for me and my children. Things went dark again until I felt myself being pulled on and laid on what I could only assume was a backboard. 

“Her heart beats there but it's threaady. Move quickly, men!" It was then that I opened my eyes. I was in the middle of the road, being pushed toward the ambulance. My eyes moved rapidly as I tried to keep control of staying awake. Out of my peripheral vision I saw two tiny figures sitting on the ground in the grass with a woman firefighter. My boys. My heart and soul in earthly form. Byron, being the oldest at only eight, yelled, “Mama!” The woman grabbed him and pulled him back close to her as he tried to run towards me. I searched for my voice just to let them both know I was going to be alright and came up empty-handed. Then, before I was being loaded up in the ambulance, I noticed the sky. The stars were flickering, and the sky looked almost navy before everything faded away slowly, like a song's end.  

“We’ve lost her pulse! Get the defibrillator! Start resuscitation,” someone commanded. 

I don’t know what happened after that, but the next thing I saw was a bright light again. It was like the sky opened up and was swallowing me whole, like the whale did Jonah. Was I reliving the events that happened earlier when the truck had swerved into my lane, nearly hitting me head on? Was I dreaming? Everything was fuzzy, but I kept fighting to breathe and attempting to force my eyelids back open. They opened slowly, and the view wasn’t the same as it had been at the scene of the crash. I didn’t see the night sky, or my kids. I was in the brightest room I had ever been in. Where was I? I wasn’t lying down anymore, either. I was standing and not in pain. Breathing came easy. Looking down, I didn’t see any sign of injury. “Krystina?” Someone was calling my name. A very familiar voice. I blinked my eyes as I thought they had to be deceiving me. “Daddy?” I nearly screamed as my eyes landed on my favorite man in the entire world. The one who had held my hand and my heart for the entirety of my life. I thought you were gone. I said as I ran up and wrapped my arms around him. Daddy was quiet as I gripped onto him tightly, held me tightly. Then when he released me I said with the enthusiasm of a highschool cheerleader on a Friday night “I knew you wouldn’t leave me!” Daddy smiled, then waved his hand in a gesture for me to look around. I followed his direction and looked to my left, then to my right. This didn’t look like a hospital room at all. Where were we? I noticed a light mist surrounding us, and with a look of confusion, I finally asked out loud. Where are we? With a steady tone, he just said, "Look closer, dear." That’s when through the mist behind my father I saw the glint of gold. My curiosity took over, and I walked closer. It was some kind of gate. The mist cleared the closer I got. What I saw was a massive, bright shiny gold rounded gate that seemed to go on forever because I couldn't see the end of the area it enclosed. Still mystified by where I was, I noticed on one side of the door affixed to the gold bars was a metal banner announcing the place behind it. The sign read in old English font “The gates of Heaven.” I took my hand and traced over the raised letters. In complete dismay. Heaven? Did I die? My boys needed me. I couldn't be dead. They must feel hurt and be confused. I raked my hand through my long, straight locks. For goodness’ sake, did my mom lose her husband of thirty-five years and her oldest child? God wouldn't do that to her, would he? My eyes landed on my father's face. Disbelief must have been written on my face as our eyes met. " Welcome to Heaven, my dear daughter," with an enormous grin on his face. He then took my hand gently and walked me over to a thick, golden park bench. 

Wow, this was all so unbelievable. At last, as we approached the most gorgeous bench, I wasn't sure if I could sit down. In the bright light, it looked like it was glittering. It was so pristine. I felt like I was in a museum and there should have been signs all around saying not to touch. Dad sat down on it with ease, like I had seen him do so many times in his favorite recliner. I remained standing until dad patted the place next to him. I followed his lead and took my place. 

I had so many questions, but didn't know where to start. Dad put his arm around me and pulled me in close. His warmth met my skin and went deeper into my soul. Growing up, we weren't always the closest, but when I finally grew up and understood, all that dad did was for me. The same way it was for me with the boys, our relationship blossomed. We talked about everything from his onion bread recipe to politics. Dad was a devout Christian man who had firm beliefs on many topics. 

Dad began talking in a soft tone, and I leaned my head on his shoulder. “You know, baby girl, you have my heart wrapped around your little finger.” He brushed my hands. I noticed the rough way his fingertips felt, probably a result of many years working with his hands. “I fell in love with you before I met you. The moment I first saw you and held you wrapped in a soft, fuzzy pink blanket, my heart melted and melded with yours. You are part of me. Always will be. We are a part of each other. No one or nothing can take the love we share away.”

Why was he speaking as if he were leaving me? I was here. Right here, where I belonged. Where I wanted to be. I remained quiet but looked up at his face, into his eyes. His deep chestnut-colored eyes looked sad. I had seen daddy cry before, but I never recalled seeing his eyes with such deep sadness. I brushed my fingers over his and entertained our fingers together the same way I had done during bedtime prayers many times before. 

Daddy, you're my hero and I'm sorry for not telling you that more. Don't be sad. We are here together. Memories of the story where dad and I were the main characters came flooding into my mind. Him coaxing me in the water at a hotel on a family vacation so I could learn to swim. Standing next to me as I tried to ride a two-wheeler bike for the first time in the church parking lot. Him teaching me two steps in the living room to a Tim McGraw song for my first dance. Wiping my tears after the football player I went to homecoming with broke my heart. 

Remember when you were learning to drive, and we took my old pickup down the back roads of town? He asked, breaking the memory wheel going through my mind. 

I nodded as the memory came to mind. We were in dad's beat up old white Ford on a dusty red dirt road on a sunny day.. I was fifteen and thought I knew it all. In reality, I knew little about anything. I was supposed to be driving us down the long ruts in the road, but couldn't quite get the hang of the clutch and kept killing the engine. Daddy's laugh filled the cab after the truck jerked to a halt several times because I came off of the pedal too quickly. He then encouraged me to try again. We each took a deep breath. Daddy holding on to the window pane, I imagine, was praying that the driving lesson wouldn't give him whiplash. Finally, after several attempts, we were cruising the country scenery. 

"You never gave up."He said, "As many times as it took for you to get the hang of driving a standard vehicle you kept going. I want you to keep that perseverance with you always. In life comes many trials, but don't give up. Keep going. Press on. You won't always understand the reason for things, but in the dark moments know that the sovereign Lord has given you his words of wisdom, to have and hold in your heart. When the skies get dark, he will comfort you and be the truth, the light the way. 

Your encouragement kept me trying. Dad 

I'm always here for you on your side, he winked. But---

      

 

“You have to go home now.” 

“Is this not my home, dad?” I asked, confused 

“It is, but not yet, baby girl.”

“I don't want to leave you. I won't be able to go on without you with me.” My voice squeaked 

“I will always be with you, my dear daughter. Your boys need you every day.” 

“I need you. Can't you come back with me? We all need you. You're the rock of our family. Our steady hand.” 

Daddy took my hand inside of his large hand. His rough fingers gently caressing the palm of my considerably small hand. 

“My home is heaven. I was just traveling through the earthly world. Now I have reached my home, on the other side of the clouds.” He said with his hands in motion toward everything around us. 

Now it is time for you to return. You have people waiting for you, my dear sweet baby girl. Why am I here if it's not because I died to be with you? 

I asked God for a chance to tell you one last time I loved you and to let you know I'm safe and will be watching you. Dad answered as he swiped his thumb against my cheek as if he was wiping away a tear. I had felt no wetness on my face, but I blinked rapidly. Normally in a situation like this so intense with emotion, I for sure would have been the girl crying. Why wasn't that happening now? Dad must have seen the question flash in my eyes. There are no tears in heaven, sweet girl, but I know your heart that sits on your sleeve and if we were anywhere else, tears would be falling from those beautiful bright blue eyes. Daddy, you sure know me inside and out. 

I want you to know I see you every day and I don’t want you to be filled with pain. Fill your heart with joy, serve the Lord in every way he asks of you. I ask that you don’t cry for me, please. He wrapped his arms over my shoulders and pulled me close to his side. I could smell the scent of his aftershave and the warmth filled me from the inside out. I wanted this moment to last forever. 

Daddy stood and gently pulled me to my feet. Then wrapped me in a tight bear hug. I didn't want the moment to end. If this was all a dream, I didn't want to wake up. Daddy's arms provided me with the safest place I could have ever imagined. I held on as tightly as I could, knowing it would eventually end. A few moments later, we separated from the tight grip. Daddy's voice cracked as he said one more time, "I love you, baby girl. Until we see each other again. As much as I didn't want to leave him. I wanted to hug my boys. I knew I had to get back to them. It gave me a chance to me to say goodbye to my father, my best friend. He taught me how to take care of my children. Now it was time to do so the best I knew how.and make the best of the situation. I also had to get to mom and help her grieve and continue living her best life. Without a word, I smiled and turned to walk away. I could see the deeper mist glittering just up ahead. Before stepping in, I looked back and saw Dad standing, waving the same way he had done the day I left for college. A bright crimson colored cardinal flew above him. I stepped inside the mist. “Bye Daddy. I love you, I whispered. 

    The next thing I heard was a beep beep noise. A heart machine. With my eyes closed. I could tell wherever I was in a bright room, but it was dim compared to the place I had been the last time I had awoken. My arms were heavy, and the air was chilly and smelled of bleach. Slowly, I began attempting to open my eyes. It felt like someone had attached small weights to my eyelids. As I did, I heard familiar voices calling my name. As I kept attempting to open my eyes, I felt someone touch my hand, and I gently curled my fingers around theirs. Finally, my eyes opened partly. The first face I saw was my mothers. Then, turning my head to the side, I saw my sister. I struggled to get my bearings, but recognized my surroundings. I was in a hospital room. Why? What had happened? Where were the kids? I tried to speak, but the words inside my brain didn't come out of my mouth. Mom came over and touched my hand. 'baby girl, can you hear me? I made eye contact, and the beeps seemed to get louder in my ears. My sister ran out of the room and mom quietly said, Everything's ok. I hadn't said a word yet as I just tried to take in the space I was in and all that I had experienced. 

The doctor came in and did a quick vital check. He explained to me I had been in a state of shock after the accident and my body kept fighting, but that my heart had stopped in the field. He also explained that I had had surgery performed to repair my crushed fibula bone. They had placed a small piece of a metal rod and screwed it in to attach it back together. The wreck could have been so much worse. I was lucky that I was going to walk again in time. 

    After he left the room, I looked at Mom and asked about the boys. "They're fine. They have been having a slumber party with aunt Danica. Both are worried about you, though, and will be happy to see you. 

Thank goodness. Thank God the accident did not harm the boys in any way. 

The wreck could have had a totally different ending. We had a guardian angel on our side, though. Mom had a tear in her eyes as she held my hand. 

"Mama, don't cry."

I'm just happy you're safe and still here with me, honey. I know now that it will be ok. 

I had so much I wanted to tell her, but wanted to wait for the right moment, and waking up in a hospital room after she had already been through so much wasn't the right timing. Needing to say something to ease her mind from all that must have been spinning through it. I told her, "Mom, you were right. I can't tell you how, but I know this is true. You were right. Everything will be okay. I don't really understand how or what the world will look like with Daddy missing, but I know with our faith we will all be okay. "

A few days later, I finally ‌received the okay from the docs to be released from the hospital. I would use crutches for six to eight weeks, but I was free to go home. Which was a relief. The boys had been spending time with their favorite aunt while I was still needing inpatient care, but I was excited to have those two rowdy boys with me. The nurses brought me a stack of papers. I rushed to sign. They then helped me into a wheelchair and out to my mother's car. Mom looked exhausted as she pulled her seatbelt on. She had been staying with me, sleeping in a stiff, high-top chair next to my bed. She was a woman of pure sacrifice. I knew she was on a grieving path, but as usual, she was putting us girls ahead of her needs. Wishing I could do something for her, I simply patted her knee and whispered, I love you, Mama. Like I had done when I was just a youngin. The rest of the ride was quiet, but as she made the turn into the gravel driveway that led to her home, something caught my eye. In front of the house, on ‌top of the bushes that covered a portion of the house, was a bright red cardinal. I couldn't help but smile and stare at it. As I got out of the car shakingly trying to balance on the new tools for me to walk and my mother hurried to my side. I directed her attention to the creature. We both looked up to the sky at that moment, knowing that my dad, her husband, though it may be different, was still with us.