One's eighteenth birthday should be a day full of fun and celebration. It is one of those key moments of transition in life, when one finally becomes a legal adult, obtains the right to vote, is permitted to buy property, and can legally make one's own choices.
For Amber, however, her eighteenth birthday was a day of extreme tragedy. It was the first day of her senior year of high school, so skipping school simply was not an option. It was also the day on which her father was killed in an insurgent ambush in Iraq. Learning of her husband's death while driving, her mother also died that day, and the shock of his death distracted her greatly, resulting in a fatal collision with a tanker truck.
With her relatives all living on the other side of the country or even on the other side of the world, there was suddenly no place for Amber to stay as, not surprisingly, she definitely did not want to be in the large family home on her own.
No place except for my place.
I had been a family friend for about a decade, since shortly after they had moved to the neighborhood. Paul's car had broken down just in front of my driveway one morning, and when I saw the situation, I had immediately gone outside to help him push the car back to the house. From just that simple act of kindness, a strong friendship blossomed which also quickly included his wife Francina and their young daughter Amber.
I had watched little Amber grow up. With her father gone so much for his military career, training soldiers at bases around the world in matters so specialized that just hearing the basics would easily make my head swim, Amber seemed to regard me as a second father.
Since I did not have any children of my own, Amber was practically a daughter to me. Given that I lived only four houses away and worked from home as a consultant, I watched for Amber every morning and afternoon, ensuring that she was indeed on her way to and from school and was safe. She would sometimes stop by to see me on the way home from school, and she and I would chat over cookies and milk.
In fact, that is exactly what we were doing when the police called her cell phone to inform her of her parents' deaths.
I held Amber tightly to me, wishing I could somehow take away her anguish. I had often held her like that - after having fallen from her bike when she was just eight years old, after her favorite and most respected middle school teacher had been arrested for child pornography, after her first boyfriend had dumped her because she refused to let him get underneath her clothes... But this time, I held Amber even more tightly than usual, because I could truly share her anguish, for I had just lost two dear friends.
Labor Day Weekend is typically the last fun weekend of summer, the last chance for people to get away to the summer destinations such as beaches and amusement parks. In recent years, Paul and Francina and Amber and I had gone canoeing on Labor Day Weekend, usually on Labor Day itself. But this year, however, instead of being on the local river, Amber and I stood in the shade of a massive oak tree, watching as my friends and her parents were lowered into the ground, buried side by side.