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Thirteen years ago today my dad was killed in an accident on our farm. That was the worst day of my life. I had just finished my first year of teaching at Entz and needed to move my classroom over to Bush where I had just received a new teaching contract.  I had talked to my dad that morning and we were set to meet up and get things loaded into the trailer. Our plans for the morning changed and by late afternoon I received a call from my Mom that she was on her way to Chandler Regional Hospital.  When the hospital called her, they simply told her she needed to get to the hospital because my dad had been involved in an accident.  My sister had flown into town from Wyoming that day and as a family, we were all set to get together for dinner.  I remember talking to my mom and sister on the phone as they drove to the hospital and the conversation was that we were worried that maybe my dad had lost an arm or finger in the equipment he was working on.  If only.  Jeremy headed home to pick me up so I could get to the hospital too.  That had to have been the longest drive of my life.  The traffic was terrible that day as we headed down south on the one way streets.  As we got closer to the hospital my cell phone rang and it was my mom.  She told me in the calmest voice that my sister Ashley was going to meet me at the emergency room entrance.  I started screaming at my mom to please tell me what was going on.  She wouldn't.  As we drove into the emergency room entrance my sister was standing there screaming, "Dad is dead." "Dad is dead." We both started crying and screaming as the hospital staff quickly walked us inside to a private waiting room.  My Mom was there crying as the doctors and nurses tried to console her.  Phone calls were made, friends arrived and the rest of the year was a blur.  I often wish I could have just had one more day with my dad, to say good-bye, tell him that I love him, and thank him for teaching me so much.  Other times I am grateful that I didn't have to see him suffer with illness before he died.  It all happened so fast. I wish I knew why the tractor he was on that day jumped into gear and threw him off.  I wish I knew if there was anyone else there with him.  I wish I knew what he said before he died on the way to the hospital.  Did he know what was happening?  Was he in pain?  I think about these things often.  I miss my dad.  I wish he was here to enjoy these crazy kids of mine, to teach them the simple life of farming.  I have hope that we will see each other again.  Until then, I will continue to visit the cemetery and eat Gummy Bears and Popsicles in his honor.