My black heels clanked against the scorching asphalt. The sun was beating down so heavily on my freshly tanned face making more than just tears glisten on my skin. With every clunk my heels made, my heart sank further and further in to my chest. It made breathing nearly impossible. Tears flowed at a rapid pace as I placed my hand on the handle leading in to the Church.

Gobs of black. That’s all I saw. My eyes were so full of the salty-like substance they call tears, that faces were not in focus. I could hear sniffles coming in all different directions around me. Not one ounce of happiness was present in that building. Wiping the tears from my face, I proceeded to shuffle my heels to the back of the church where the family of Peyton Joy was located.

Although my family isn’t blood related to Peyton's family, we are at heart. I babysat Peyton since she was a baby until the day she passed on to the Lord. She was like a cousin, a niece, or even maybe a sister. Our families are tightly knitted together and nothing can tear our relationship at the seams.

There was about fifteen minutes until the funeral was scheduled to start. In preparation, I made my way to the bathroom to erase the tears from my face. As I stared at my reflection, I didn’t recognize the sad girl staring back me. The whiteness surrounding the vibrant green pigment in her eyes were red. The perfected makeup done twenty minutes prior was running down her face. Her cheeks flushed. Her nose the color of Rudolph’s . She was a train wreck. I was unidentifiable. Out of disgust I wiped the tears, powdered my nose and exited the restroom with a big girl mind set.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with my sister, the head funeral coordinator spoke with sympathy, “It’s time for the family to proceed.” I felt prepared to enter the sanctuary with my head high and not let a single tear fall from my eyes. I was determined to not show my emotional side during the service. Amazing grace echoed through the speakers as we made our way to the front row of the Church. I looked down at my new heels and tried to keep myself distracted before Pastor Ben started the service. The moment Pastor Ben began to speak, my eyes filled up with tears. I cried. I cried the ugly cry. My whole body was shaking and my tissues seemed to disappear right before my eyes. I don’t remember anything else said at the service. I was sobbing so hard everything in my body cramped up and I couldn’t concentrate. In what seemed like an eternity, Pastor Ben closed the service and dismissed the family to say our final good-byes to Peyton Joy.

As our pew was dismissed, my legs were like Jell-o. They had no strength left. I held on to my daddy’s arm as we shuffled our way down to the open casket. There PJ laid so peacefully. She was beautiful. Her blonde pigtails were tightly curled and her purple polka dot dress complimented her very nicely. She looked happy. I touched her hand and whispered, “I’ll love you forever and always, PJ. Forever.” Walking away from her was the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life. That was the last time I would ever see her. Tears dropped from my eyes like water falling from Niagara Falls. My body shook. I fell to my knees and let out a shriek that could be heard miles away. My time with her was over.

Peyton was three years old. On July 18, 2008 the Lord took the most beautiful girl to be with Him in Heaven. At the time, I felt like there was no purpose left in life. Everything that was worth living was taken from me. But today, I know she is having the time of her life fulfilling her dreams and watching over each and every one of us. Peyton Joy is my Angel.