One day, I noticed that my mother wasn't actuación right. She was very pale and seemed lethargic. She also had a terrible cough. She went to the doctor and was diagnosed with pneumonia. She was later put in the hospital. The doctor dicho that things weren't looking good. It wasn't pneumonia; it was much worse. It was myocarditis. Suddenly, it happened. Her corazón stopped beating. The doctor tried to revive her, but to no avail. I still remember the chilling words like they were dicho yesterday: "Time of death: 11:32 pm." I did not want to believe I had lost my mother. At first, I blamed the doctor for not recognizing the problem sooner. Grandma said, "Erin, the doctor did everything he could. There's no one to blame." I cried out, "So, I'm supposed to believe this is the will of God?!" She said, "Erin, recall that the Bible says that part of being a Christian is suffering." I said, "Really? Why did Mother have to suffer like this?! What did she do to deserve that?!" Grandma said, "Erin, the Bible says that all have sinned and have come short of the glory of God." I said, "You're saying Mother is in Hell, aren't you?!" Grandma said, "No, that's not what I'm saying, dear." I ran out of the room sobbing. I ignored my brother, Daniel, as he shouted, "Erin, wait! Erin!" He later found me outside the hospital crying. He said, "There tu are, little sis." I dicho through tears, "Why, Daniel? Why did Mother have to die?" He said, "I don't have the answers, Erin. Grandma was trying to help, but she only made the situation worse. That was uncalled for. I know that's what the scriptures say, but that was not the time for it. You're upset." I asked, "What's going to happen to us?" He said, "It's going to be okay. Our aunt and uncle have been named as our legal guardians. They'll be taking care of us now." That was very perceptive for a fourteen-year-old. Still, things were never the same after that. Grandma and Grandpa told me, "Just pray, and everything will be okay." I prayed long and hard, but it didn't help. Suddenly, I felt as if I was wasting my time. The only thing that seemed to help was music. One day, I was hanging out with my cousin, Barbara Ann. She said, "I know you've dicho música makes tu feel better when you're feeling down. Here's some más good música for you." She took out her iPod, and some great música played. "Hey, Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better." That sounded nice. I asked, "What's the song? Who sings it?" She said, "The song is called 'Hey Jude'. It was performed por a band called the Beatles." I said, "Nice." She introduced me to a couple of other songs. I said, "They're amazing! Are they still around?" She said, "No, they broke up in 1970." I said, "Rats! Are any of the members still living?" She said, "Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr are the only ones living." I had más questions, and I got más answers. I said, "It would be awesome if they were all still alive and still together." She said, "Yes, it would be. We could have gone to a concierto together." It was then I began to realize that God was distant from me, and música was closer.
To be continued