Sara went home that Monday afternoon totally devastated. She hated losing. She was so proud of herself that she reached the final round. She could have won, she knew every word. She knew that particular word as she had already learned it in class. It was only one letter that made her lose. But then, she went ahead of herself and wrote in haste without checking. She spelled “photosythesis” and lost the spelling bee.
As she arrived home, Sara saw him in the backyard, busy hanging some clothes. She had not even realized that this was a rare moment that he was home, more so, hanging clothes. She was too embarrassed to show herself to him that she ran inside the house. She wanted him to always be proud of her and she was so sure it would disappoint him once he knew. She did not want to tell him that she lost. If she only knew that it was the last time she would see him. She lost indeed. She lost that moment to be with him one last time.
Sara stayed in bed disappointed at herself and too exhausted thinking about the contest that she fell asleep early that evening. She saw her classmates in her dream laughing at her while banging the chairs and applauding the winner of the spelling contest. They were teasing her and nudging her in her nightmare that she woke up, her brother nudging her awake. “Something happened! Father’s car fell into a creek!”
It was raining so hard that night when Sara was awakened. She did not know what exactly happened but she was worried that her father’s car must have been stuck in the rain, thinking that a creek was just a small canal. There was a commotion downstairs, there were some adults talking and sounding worried. She did not go downstairs but instead went down her knees to pray. “I am sorry I was not able to pray before sleeping but I hope my father is okay. Please keep him safe. Please!!!” She prayed repeatedly and sobbed her heart out, her tears flowing continuously like the rain. She again fell asleep, her eyes swollen with tears.
Sara woke up the next morning, seeing the sun shining. The rains had stopped. Her father usually lay beside her, but this time, he was still not there. She did not want to get up so she closed her eyes again. Her mother came and lay beside her while Sara pretended to be asleep. Her mother spoke a few words, “Just like that, your father is gone.” Tears fell from Sara’s eyes.
Those were the last tears Sara shed from that moment, during the funeral, and until the burial that Saturday. She still went to school normally, pretending everything was fine. Their mother told them not to cry, as their father still existed. She knew this because once she looked through the casket, she did not see her dad. That was not him. That was just his broken, slightly bloated body, and he probably still existed somewhere else. Sara also hated the word “condolence.” People thought that it was a magic word. Once they said it, they magically sympathize with her and she would immediately feel better. But she knew that no word could ever bring her father back. No magic word could do that.
As they brought the casket to the grave, Sara was even snickering at her aunts who were wailing ever so loudly. “They’re so dramatic!”, she thought to herself. Finally, they quieted down when the casket was lowered into the hole. One by one, people threw the flowers into the grave. Sara’s sister, who was only two years old that time, threw the small flower in her hand while saying, “Bye bye, Tata!” It echoed in Sara’s ears; it still does up to this day. Sara tried to hold back her tears, but she couldn’t.
From that moment on, Sara cried every night, missing her dad. He was the only person who told her she was beautiful and smart. Now that he was gone, she felt so ugly and fat and stupid. It became so hard for her to have a little self-esteem, a little self-confidence. Even the slightest criticism makes her cry. She always had this feeling of not being worthy enough, of not being enough. Of the 99 things she does right, that one thing she may do wrong cuts through her and she breaks down.
They say it gets easier but it really doesn’t. You just learn to cope with it better. And Sara did. She learned to appreciate life, her self, the people around her, and even the moments that she shares with others. She doesn’t want to miss those little moments, thinking that any moment could be the last time they spend together. Just like that last memory of her dad. That moment is gone forever, and she could never take it back. Ever.
This is a true story. Sara was only ten years old when she lost her father. And Sara is 
