Rachel Henault lost her mom when she was twelve years old. When she asked if she could read at this year's service, SFMF was honored to give her the opportunity to share her words with us. Many of those in attendance were truly touched by what she had to say. Rachel has allowed us to reprint her words here.

IN MEMORY
Written by Rachael Henault, daughter of Jude Henault

When I was twelve, most kids my age were worried about what they were going to wear, if their boyfriend or girlfriend of two weeks was going to break up with them, or if they were going to be able to hang out with their friends. But not me. I was worried about whether or not my mom was going to come home. And as all of you know, she didn't. In fact 99 other people didn't return to their families that night either. The night of February 20th stole many innocent people from their lives and their loved one.

February 20, 2003 can be described in many words. However, most of us may identify it as horrific, tragic, and devastating. Five years later, it still seems surreal. To me, my mom may have died, but her presence and her love feels so alive. She feels so close to me. I can't touch or see her, but I know that does not mean she isn't here with me always. Have you ever felt like the ones you lost are so close to you? So close that if you were to reach out your arms, you would be able to hug them once again. It's an almost tangible feeling. I think it's because my mom and everyone else who perished on that night are still so alive through all of our love, memories, and dedication in keeping their memory alive, through services such as this, and raising money to secure this very land we stand on today. It is standing up here and reading this to all of you, that is making me feel so close to her. If she was not here with me, I would not be able to stand here and do this.

When I was twelve, it was like I was still just a baby. Of course before my mom passed I would never have admitted that. Twelve year olds know it all. You know that. But when my mom died, my eyes were forced open and I was forced to grow up in an instant. I saw death for the first time and I would have never thought it would happen to me. I was instantly robbed of a normal childhood with a mom, and forced to grow up without her. But it also made me who I am today. I have realized that life is both precious and short and that we can't live for what we want, we have to live for what we have.

If we only l live for what we want, we tend to overlook the things that we have and sometimes we may end up losing them. The people that we care for can be there one second and you never think about them not being in your life. But, then something happens and in a matter of seconds they are gone. Not years, not months, not days, it only takes a second to lose someone or something. At a young age, I learned that we have to love who and what we have because tomorrow what and who we have may not be in our lives anymore. And a lot of times they never return. And it will change our lives forever. Some people may think that family is just a six letter word, but it has such a big meaning behind it. Our families are everything. They will always be there for us when we need them and sometimes even when we think we don't need them. They love us no matter what. We all may have lost someone on the evening of February 20th, but we also gained something. We gained each other, and we are all connected.

Right now, at this very moment, we can all look at the person next to us and know for sure that they feel the same pain. We all really do know what one another went through, and is still going through, and that is why we are all standing here right at this very moment. In a sense we are all a family, and we all share a very strong connection, bond, and love.

We cannot live in the past and we cannot live in the future. We have to live for right now and live our lives the way our loved ones would have wanted us to if they were still here. They would want us to be happy. We can be happy and still miss them. We don't have to be sad or angry about what happened all the time. Don't remember the bad times, but remember the good times.

I will end with my own personal memory that gets me through the tough moments of missing my mom. She is probably standing next to me right now in disbelief that I am actually going to tell this embarrassing story, but she is also probably standing next to me helping me get through this, because I really am not sure how I am getting through this reading.

I remember this one time with her, when we were at a gas station. My mom had put the gas pump into the gas tank and then she went into the store to pay. When she came out, she got right into the car, turned it on, and started to drive away. As she was pulling away we heard this funny noise behind us. So we both got out of the car and started laughing hysterically. She had forgotten to take the gas pump out of the gas tank and by driving away, she had broke it so it was hanging out of the side of the car. It is times like those that make me forget I'm sad. Memories and pictures are all we have left of our loved ones. Sometimes they bring happiness and other times they bring sorrow. I look at my mom's picture everyday and there is not a day that goes by that I do not think of her. But I get my strength in knowing that my mom would never actually leave me, and she didn't. She is just with me in a different way now. And growing up I have learned to accept that.

They say time heals all wounds, but there are some wounds that time will never heal.
February 20th stole many innocent lives, but they haven't really left us. They are everywhere we are. They are the wind blowing against our windows. They are the rain falling so neatly on the sidewalk. They are the blanket that keeps us warm at night. They are the one unique flower growing in the front yard. They are the stars that watch over us. They are our guardian angels; whom we love so dearly and keep so close to our hearts. May they all rest in peace.