My day started as an ordinary one. I got up and fed the kids, talked to an instructor who had become a friend of mine at the University of Wyoming, (UW) where I was in my first year of college at age 36. Though I had no idea what my major was going to be I had reasoned with myself that there were certain general education requirements that had to be met for a degree and I may as well start there. I had recently separated from my son’s father and left him a distance of 325 miles, on the south western side of Wyoming; I was now in Laramie, the south eastern side of the state.

The separation was difficult on the children and I knew the situation that lay ahead was going to be hard for them. I had determined in my heart to stay close to them, to be there for them through it all. Their father and I could not work out certain situations in our lives and so therefore I left. I wanted to get out on my own and do something with my life instead of just living as a wife of a man who I felt didn’t even like me. I was full of bright sunny optimism even though there was a divorce on the horizon I was still somehow relieved. The last time I spoke to my then husband was when he was visiting his sons and had them at the hotel in Laramie. He had told me that night to go file for divorce. This was about two weeks before the crash.

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In every person’s life there are times in which one’s life takes a turning point. These events can stimulate changes for the better or the worse; in either case they shape the rest of that person’s life. Although they may vary in importance and frequency, they equally shape us into the unique individuals that we are. The most profound of these experiences are often traumatic incidents which occur early in life, in childhood. Such is the event that has shaped my own life and made me much of the person I am today; a cruel trick of fate that victimized my siblings and me early in our lifetime. I still remember that deceivingly tranquil spring day; I remember playing on the swing set in the warm Wyoming sun while a faint breeze made the chartreuse canopy of leaves above applaud at the beautiful green carpet of grass which had sprung from the ice of a bitter winter. My mind has photographed the yellow-brown wheatgrass that grew by the creek across the street and the tinkle of the shimmering water flowing in between...