I remember the first time I heard the phrase, “guardian angels.” I was sitting on my bed and there were tears in my eyes. I was only six and my heart was full of pain.

“Everyone has them. My guardian angel is my dad. He passed away when I was little too— just like you,” Grandma said, holding my hand. “And now you have one. Your momma will always look down on you and make sure you’re okay.”

My face was red and I was angry. She was suppose to be here to do all the things a mother does. I need my hair fixed and breakfast off my face. I need to be hugged and kissed on the forehead before school too.

“And you know what? Even though you can’t see her, and you think she’s not here, that doesn’t mean she isn’t. And it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. You’re her first baby.”

“Why’d she have to go?” Little me didn’t know I shouldn’t ask hard questions for the adults. Didn’t know I should nod and not make Grandma cry more.

“Because she was sick,” Grandma cleared her throat and pulled me in. “She was so, so, so sick. She tried to get help and they couldn’t help her.”

I didn’t understand. I wouldn’t until I was thirteen. When I was told everything that happened that day.

“But you can’t get mad and you can’t ask God why. It happened the way it was suppose to happen. Okay?” She sniffed because this was the hardest thing she’s had to do. She had to tell little me that my momma wasn’t coming back and I’d never see her again.

•.•.•.•. A year later .•.•.•.•

“Your daddy loved you and your sisters more than anything. He was such a good daddy too.” And so we sat on the same bed, her arms around me. “He always told me that nothing would happen to him. And not to worry.” She chuckled. “And look at us. All sad. He wouldn’t want you to cry. He’s got wings now, and he’s not hurting anymore.”

“He won’t come back?”

“What about Momma?”

“I miss him so much.”

Now my heart laid bare and a bit more battered. A bit more scars marking it’s surface. I was older, I’d remember more this time. I’d hurt deeper. My daddy was my world, my reason to keep walking.

“Your daddy is fine. He’s in Heaven now. And he can watch you all the time. He can make sure you’re always happy and never sad. Never hurt or mad. You don’t have to worry about him.” She was so warm, I could feel my eyes close and I could smell the sweet scent of her perfume. I just wanted to stay like that, right in the moment before sleep so it would stop hurting. So I could forget.

From then on, as I grew— nearly ten years later— I’ve had the two most beautiful angels watching over me somewhere way up above. I’ve talked to them, kept their pictures, held them close… and never have I forgotten where I came from and who raised me.

These… are

my

guardian angels.