It had been the best of times
And was now the worst of times.
Our idyll life had been shattered
With what was a tentative knock
Ten PM on the front door.
The nervous troubled young police woman
Whose presence she knew was bad news.
My daughter, my beautiful teenage Sal
Had been ripped from us.
Today I stand at her graveside
No amount of tears will change a thing.
The girl who lay on her bed feet in the air
Joking about her boyfriends driving
Was now the product of it.
Her potential not just to do well
But to do well for others was gone.
My mind is a flood with memories.
Her diary covered in love doodles,
Her wardrobe door with the carved heart
A legacy of a camping trip
Where the boy from Queensland
Had won her heart and written her letters.
His last letter unopened, arriving yesterday.
Her insistence on hanging the dream catcher
This boy had sent her
‘You never know,’ she’d say.
‘I might dream something to remember.’
We’d never know I thought as the priest
Said the farewell prayers,
And invited me to deliver her eulogy.
In that split second I knew what to say
Even though my words I’d written so many times
I knew I had something of worth to say
To remind family and friends
Of the beauty Sal gave to each of us.
I began….’I don’t know how to say goodbye…’