I imagine 20 years or 40 or a lifetime later, a person driving by the spot where a loved one had died would slow down, look at the landscape and remember. That person might feel not the sharp pain of new loss, but the memory of sorrow. The time might never come when that bend in the road, or that cross walk, or that grown over path, the place where life permanently changed, was simply another part of the road…

They were just kids three years ago. Raquel was 15 and Andrea barely 20 and if life wasn’t always as sweet as ribbon candy, it was sometimes.  

Then came the accident.   

It was November 3, 1995. Their mother, Luella…