work teaching preschool; a job that that I loved and felt

appreciated. The day dragged on. I had to leave work

early for a doctor appointment, a meeting that I truly

dreaded. Finally, it was naptime for my students, meaning

it was time for me to see what my doctor would  have to

say.

Although only a ten minute drive, the trip to my

appointment seemed like an eternity. I had a horrible

feeling the moment I stepped inside my doctor’s office.

It might not be a normal day after all, I feared. The doctor

entered the room, sat down, took a deep breath and

spilled out the three dreadful words.

“You have cancer,” he said. He went on and

informed me that I needed to get an operation as soon

as possible.

The rest of the visit became a big blur. I did not

remember much of the conversation that ensued. When

our meeting ended I sped home in my car and broke

down the moment I stepped into my house. Tears

poured down my face. My husband came home from

work and I told him what happened. It was hard for me

to share the heart wrenching news, more difficult to tell

him than finding out for myself. We sat on our bed and

hugged; both trying to reassure the other. My daughter

was next to find out my condition. She had yet to arrive

home from school.

“Oh how can I tell her that her mother may not

be around to see her grow and get married?” I asked

myself.

When she finally arrived, we sat down on the

sofa and I began the talk that no parent should ever

have to have with a child.

I could not sleep later that night. Suddenly the

phone rang. I could not make out the mumblings from

the other side of the line. My husband walked in; he had

that same look that he had had earlier.

“What , what is it?” I asked.

“One of your students was killed in a car accident,”

he said.

“What, no…who?” I asked.

“Connor,” he said.

Just when I thought that nothing more horrible

could happen it did. I sank into a deep depression.

The funeral was held on Sunday, followed by

my surgery on Monday. Both days do not seem real to

me; even to this day. Afterward, I prayed for God to

provide me an answer as to why all of this had to happen.

Finally, it came to me.

“Take control of your life,” a voice in my

head echoed.

Knowing what had to be done, I quit my job

and enrolled in college to make my long forgotten

dream of being a pediatrician a reality. At Wichita

State University my love of writing was rekindled. Sitting

at the computer one day, the words began flowing.

Before long I had written my first manuscript. I

mailed it to a publisher and waited. A few days later,

after coming home from school, there was a message

on my answering machine. I pushed a button on the

machine.

“We want to publish your book,” a voice

said.

The words kept replaying in my head. I knew

right there and then my new purpose in life. Everything

that I do from that moment forward will be in

the memory of my little guy. Forever & Always.

The Day My Life Came Crashing Down by Darcy Busch