October 24, 2009. It was a routine Saturday morning. The day was showing signs of rain showers by giving us a fair warning with the overcast sky. I picked out a pair of jeans along with a blue t-shirt and put on my platform flip flops. In my mind that was the perfect outfit to spend the morning at my mother’s office in. My mother and I started our short journey to her workplace. As normal, the car was filled with the voices of Whitney, Celine, and Mariah as we sang along cheerfully to songs dubbed as timeless classics. The car came to a stop beside the roaring Caribbean Sea, a definite sign of the rain that was to come. My mom’s waterfront office view was something that I never grew tired of. The sound of crashing waves calms the nerves instantly. Four hours flew by quickly as I listened to the Jonas Brothers on my MP4 player, and we headed to the supermarket. We pulled into the lot, and my mother’s phone began to ring.

The rain I had anticipated began hitting the roof. That was another sound that deeply satisfied my soul. “Hello,” my mom said as she put the phone to her ear. I could hear muffled sounds coming through the speaker. It sounded as if the person was hysterically crying. “When you calm down, call me back.” With those words my ended the call and we began searching for umbrellas and prepared to exit the vehicle. The phone rang again delaying our exit. This time around, I could not hear noise fragments from the other end. “What do you mean?” my mom questioned. I immediately turned around filled with concern, mouthing the words, “What happened?” I took note of the stream of tears now running down my mother’s face. My heart began to race. My body temperature rose. I knew it was not good news. “My child,” she says, “your father is dead.”

I felt my throat tighten. Suddenly, the sound of the rain I had loved felt too loud. The car did not seem nearly big enough for two people. I no longer cared about entering the supermarket and going about my day. I turned to my left glancing out the foggy car window, then to my right at my mother’s tear-stained face, frozen. I now only had one parent. Words cannot describe the horrifying sound that escaped my lips as I joined my mother in mourning.