“Is she okay?” I whispered, trying to hold back the tears I was on the verge of crying.
“No,” she whispered back, shaking her head again. “She was airlifted, but it was too late. Dana died before they made it to the hospital.”
I don’t know why they say grown men don’t cry. That was the day my daughter lost her mother. That was the day my daughter didn’t get to say good-bye to her mother. That was the day I lost my first love. And that was the day I cried into my mother’s arms, whispering
sorry
over and over again.