MidReal Story
Riley returns to San Francisco with her daughter and must
Scenario: Riley returns to San Francisco with her daughter and must face her late husband's brother, Alex, for the first time since the fatal car accident that took Tyler's life, as she believes Alex is the only one she trusts to be a positive male role model for their daughter.
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I thought we’d be together forever, that we’d grow old and gray and die in each other’s arms.
So when the phone rang at two a.m.
on a Saturday morning, I almost didn’t answer it.
I almost ignored it, because nothing good ever comes from a middle-of-the-night phone call.
But deep down, I knew something was wrong.
A chill ran up my spine as I fumbled for the phone on my nightstand and answered with a tremor in my voice, “Hello?”
The voice on the other end was gruff and professional and when he identified himself as an officer of the law, my heart stopped.
It stopped beating inside my chest for one long moment as I tried to comprehend what he was saying.
I tried to understand the words he was telling me, the words that made no sense and yet at the same time shattered my world into a million pieces.
I stood there with the phone still pressed to my ear, my body numb with shock and disbelief, as I tried to understand how fate could be so cruel.
How it could take away the most important person in my life and leave me alone in the darkness.
I stared off into space as that cold, pitiless voice droned on and on, not really hearing the words or comprehending their meaning, until I realized that Imani was standing at the foot of my bed, staring up at me with her big brown eyes and her little hand outstretched toward me.
She was reaching for me and calling for me and when she said “Mama” for the third time, I finally snapped back to reality.
I dropped the phone and snatched her into my arms before I fell to the ground on my knees, clutching her tightly against my chest as the hot, salty tears streamed down my face and soaked her hair.
I cried so hard that I thought I might vomit, so hard that I couldn’t breathe, so hard that I felt like throwing myself out the window of our fifth-floor apartment just so I wouldn’t have to feel this pain any longer.
I don’t know how long I sat there on the floor, clutching Imani to me, crying like I was never going to stop.
But eventually, I heard the sound of footsteps coming toward me.
And then I heard James, my older brother, calling to me in a voice thick with sleep, “Riley, what’s going on?
What’s wrong, baby girl?”
And then he was there beside me, kneeling in front of me, his big hands on either side of my face.
He wiped away some of my tears and then he pulled me into his strong arms where I buried my face against his broad chest and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.
I don’t know how long it was after that before I heard another sound.
But then I heard my father’s deep voice calling to me from somewhere in the room.
And then he was there too, on his knees behind me, wrapping his arms around both me and Imani as he tried to comfort us.
As he tried to give us some sense of support as we faced this horrible new reality.
As I faced this horrible new reality.
I tried to pull myself together after that.
Because when I opened my eyes, Tyler was still gone.
He wasn’t coming back.
No matter how hard I cried or how much I wished it weren’t true, he was gone forever.
He was never coming back.
But it didn’t matter that much because nothing seemed real or important anymore.
It was like I was living in a nightmare or a dream or someone else’s life.
My head was all fuzzy and disjointed and nothing seemed to make any sense.
It was like my body was moving through space but my mind was stuck.
And all around me were whirring noises and flashing lights that made no sense until I realized they were coming from outside our apartment window.
They were all around me, all over me, but they couldn’t touch me because nothing could touch me anymore.
Nothing could break through this impenetrable fog of darkness that had settled over my brain and covered my mind in shadows.
It didn’t matter what sounds I heard or what voices I recognized or what hands touched me… none of it mattered because Tyler was still gone.
He was gone forever.
The days that followed are a blur of tears and heartache.
The days that turned into weeks as we tried to pick up the pieces of our shattered lives and move on without the man we all loved so much.
I would have been lost if not for my family, for the way they rallied around me and supported me when I couldn’t even think straight, let alone make any decisions for myself.
It was only a few hours after that first phone call that we started getting more phone calls and people started showing up at our apartment and one of them called a funeral home and started making arrangements for the service.
It all happened so quickly that I hardly even realized what was going on until it was all over and there was nothing left to do but try to face the future without him.
But how could I face the future without him?
How could we go on without him?
How could the sun rise or fall without him at my side?
Without his smile to warm me or his arms to hold me or his voice to comfort me?
I just couldn’t comprehend it, so I didn’t even try.
I didn’t try to think about the rest of my life without Tyler by my side, because I didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have him in it.
And so that was how I lived… one day at a time, one moment at a time, one heartbeat at a time.
And I held Imani close to me every single second that I could.
I held her as she cried out for her father in that sweet little voice that broke my heart every time she said “Dada” or pointed to his picture or asked when he was coming home.
I held her as she cuddled in next to me on the couch and patted me on the back while I cried into her hair.
She was so little, only two years old, but she seemed to understand that I was sad.
That I was broken.
And she did what she could to make me feel better.
She brought me her favorite toys and her favorite books and she asked me to sing her favorite songs.
