My Life Never Was a Fairy Tale
I was fifteen years old and thought I knew everything. The world was at my feet and I was happy. I was finally coming out of my gawky middle school years and was turning into quite a pretty young woman. My parents had been divorced since I was five years old and a “two” family life was really all I had ever known. I t never bothered me, as I saw it I had the best of both worlds. My dad was the successful parent (“My King” if-you-will) and when I was with him I felt like a princess in his castle. I was safe and secure and his vision of my future had nothing but smooth roads ahead. My life with my mom was comforting and cozy. An almost old fashion lifestyle that everyone loves or wishes they could experience. My mom was simple and required nothing but simple results from me.
It was Christmas 1984 and it would be the first one I had not spent with my dad. My dad had flown down to Florida to visit my sisters. I had stayed in cold, snowy Pennsylvania so as to be able to celebrate the holiday with my new boyfriend and his family. He lived across the street and his family was famous for the huge party they threw for most of the town. All my friends would be there and I didn’t want to miss out on all the fun. My Christmas was a happy one, I missed seeing my dad but I was a teenager and life was just beginning. I had all the time in the world to spend with him.
The party came and went and I was making plans for my Christmas break from school. I had talked to my dad on Christmas day and he had informed me that my gifts were in the mail and I probably would receive them by the 26th.
On December 26th I woke to a frightening cry coming from my mother’s room. I knew undoubtedly something was devastatingly wrong. I had never witnessed a cry like that before. It was like a soul being yanked from heaven. It was haunting. I couldn’t move. I just sat up in my bed and looked out my window. The window was cold and icy and I rested my forehead against it. I had no idea why my mom was crying or whom she was talking with on the phone. I just knew in my heart that my life was different and that I would never be the same. The coldness felt good on my face and I couldn’t move. I sat there in my bed, face smudged into the window and I called to my mother. “Mom, what is it?” I still couldn’t move. I think I cried out a few more times but I really don’t remember. My mind, my spirit and my heart were eerily still. The last thing I remember my mom saying to the person on the phone was “Why?”
My mom finally came into my room, she was an emotional wreck. Her face was red and wet from crying and she was hunched over. She sat on my bed. I couldn’t look at her at first. I was afraid. I knew it was something terrible, I could feel it in my bones. “Your Father was killed last night.” And then she paused. “He was pushed from his balcony at the Hyatt and fell eight stories.” “He’s gone honey, “she said. I just cried. I cried so much that my throat and eyes were swollen. I had been catapulted into adulthood by my father’s death. I would never be able to go back to who I was. My father’s death was an unexpected murder. He was forty two years old and I was fifteen. He died young and because of his death I would never be young again.
My father’s life ended on December 26th, 1984 and my new life began. The events leading to his death and the possibility that his wife and friends son were suspects only created a soap opera drama that I was now a part of. Suddenly lawyers and newspapers and police questioning were all a part of my life. It’s all my family could talk or think about. My life became insignificant. I wanted to be the princess again. I wanted things back to normal. After all I was going places, the world was at my feet and my future was bright. At least they were until he died. I decided to look for a new king. I looked for him in boys, alcohol, school, friends, and loneliness. My mother was there for me, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I was grief stricken, full of doubt, and guilt filled my every bone. I knew that if I had only gone to Florida with him, then none of this would have happened. I had been cheated; this was not what I had planned!
It took a long time for me to come back to me. The me that died with my dad. I walked a long road and have made many mistakes. I finally realized that this was my life. The life God planned for me. I grew up fast, but I grew up wise. I realized that my dad was not my king and I definitely am not a princess. I have come to realize that I cannot heal the things that life has done to me. They were done before I could realize what was being done. They made me do things in my life, things that were constantly coming between me and what I’d like to be. And it is in that way, that I seemed to have lost myself for awhile. I am back though and so is my dad. He just lives in my heart!
Aubrey hangin out in the bay-fishin!- 
My little baseball player... the only girl on the team!
Basketball... many wonderful years watching you play! (You could dribble in the crib!)
