When she heard the words come from the lips of the nurse standing next to her, time lost all meaning. Seconds swirled around her head. Not true. Not true. Not true. She chanted helplessly in her head. She did not want to believe them. She wanted to close her eyes and pretend it was a dream, just a silly dream. She wanted to believe that she would wake up soon and everything would be okay; no hospital. She wanted to hang on to the moments in the past where he was okay.

She took a daunting step by returning to the real world; to see if her beliefs were reality. No such luck. The sight of the blank white walls of the hospital came back to her, the sterilized scent meeting her nose. It was real. He was gone. Not just on another business trip. But gone; gone for good. She could manage no more than a weak nod to the nurse as she headed for the hospital’s sliding front doors in a haze. She looked to her left. The scene that unfolded before her eyes made her want to jump into that dream she longed for than any time before.
A man, who she suspected to be the father, was wheeled out by a beaming nurse. A little girl was sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair with tearstained cheeks. She lifted her burdened shoulders to see his wheelchair appear from around the corner. In a second, her dark and stormy eyes cleared and the sadness she was wearing slid off of her as she ran and flung herself at him, collapsing into his open arms.


“Daddy!” she shrieked, loud enough for everyone in the hospital to hear. “Are you coming home forever now?” she asked carefully. He nodded with pure joy. A wide smile spread across her little face; the tears and troubles already long forgotten.

The feeling of a tear rolling down her cheek jolted back to reality as she was deposited back into her own life. The hurt, sadness and grief came crashing back into her like early morning waves on the beach. She hastily brought her hand up to her cheek; swiping away the fresh tear. She left the hospital knowing she would never feel that same sensation that the little girl had felt just minutes ago. She climbed in a waiting taxi cab. She did not really remember the ride home. She just remembered the feeling of arms wrapping around her small frame as her aunt ushered her inside.

She went up to her room immediately. Her Dad was all she had. Her mom died when she was little. He had been everything to her for 15 years. He was the cook, the bedtime story teller, the homework-helper, the doctor, the monster-finder; everything she needed…he would be there for her. Now she did not even have that. She finally built up the courage to ask herself what she did have left. A quiet, yet hauntingly voice nagged at the back of her mind. Nothing. It whispered. She felt her heart skip a beat at this thought. She pulled out her photo album with shaky hands. She flipped through pictures running her fingers over their smiling faces; she and her Dad. Fishing trips, sailing expeditions, cruises and everything else they did together over the years. She got lost in these memories. Remembering how they would laugh together until their stomachs were in knots. When she finished savoring each picture, she realized she was crying. She lay down in bed and looked out the window. Her eyes rested on the shades of green blossoming from the woods behind her house. These woods had been her second home since she was old enough to walk without falling constantly. It meant afternoon hikes, trips to the numerous lakes and streams and bird watching with her Dad’s too big binoculars. She felt her heart sink knowing she would not be able to experience those wonders with him again. With that, she rose from her bed, exited out the back of the house and started walking. Walking nowhere in particular. Just putting one foot in front of the other and seeing where that took her.

She saw the glint of the water under the setting sun from somewhere off to her right. She headed towards it and found herself in front of the lake. She and her Dad would always go there to skip rocks. He would help her hold it and they would see how many times they could get a rock to skip before it disappeared completely. Five. She remembered. Their record was five. She could once again feel the excitement coursing through her just as it had when the broke the old record. She tentatively reached down and picked up a perfectly round and flat rock. She felt the weight in her hand and held it out, ready to skip it. She could hear her Dad’s voice.

“Hold it straighter, Bear. You want it to skim.”He would tell her during those beautiful days where they would spend hours at this lake. Bear. A nickname he always used. From the time she was two, he would always use that name. It was always just his; it never sounded the same, never had the same gentle and loving tone to it if it was used by anyone else.

She wound back and released the rock, watching it skim across the water. It skipped once…twice…three times before plummeting beneath the surface. She tried again, still. Only three skips. She noticed it getting dark out and chose her last skipping rock carefully. She cradled it carefully in her fingers. She kept her hand perfectly parallel to the water, wound back and released the rock. Time slowed as she watched it skip. Once….twice…a third time….a fourth….a fifth….a sixth. After this, the rock slipped beneath the surface. She felt tears sliding down her cheeks. This time she did not care. She felt for once, in what seemed like forever, that she could smile. She felt some of the sadness that was previously holding her down dissipate. She peeled her eyes away from the lake and turned back toward home.

“Dad….its six. The record. It’s now six...I thought you should know.” She said to the open woods, hoping that wherever he was, he would hear. “I love you.” She finished at a whisper, the words curling into the nighttime air as she left the woods under the moonlight