Girl lost

After the young and polite trooper told me my daughter was gone the rest of the day is a blur. Phone calls....I made many phone calls. First to my mom who could barely understand me as I tried desperately to communicate my horrific message through tears of utter despair. Then to my ex-husband Ray who was in town due to the birth of his first grandchild. I thank God he was near by and was spared from making the three hour trip from his house in Jacksonville while distraught. God makes things line up beautifully even in the most tragic of times.
These calls were closely followed by calls to my sisters, both of whom live in the immediate area. Everyone arrived at the house within half an hour. I waited until a semi-decent hour to call my pastor, supervisor with the school system and the owner of the restaurant in which I work part time. I work there to have extra money for college for Lauren. I plan to continue to work there because I like people, pure and simple. But more on that later.
Hours went by with little information. The officers had left an informational sheet with contact numbers for the crash investigator and the traffic homicide investigator. I called the numbers but the office opened at 8:00 am....it was 4:55. Homicide investigator struck me hard. This was all starting to become too real. At this point I was still praying for it to be a terrible mistake. In my mind I knew everything matched up, the vehicle, the number of occupants, the direction they were heading and the location, but my heart was desperately crying out "Let it not be so.....this just can't be true." And like a ton of bricks something hit me. I asked my husband Kevin, "Where is she? Where is my baby?" And I cried, again.
Now I'd like to take a moment to share with you that I am a Christian. I am strong in my faith and I trust in my Lord with all of my heart and soul. I believe unwaveringly that my Lauren was already with her Savior. I even believe she was watching all of this unfold and more than likely wanted to help ease the pain of all of those affected by her death.
Yet even knowing all of this I struggled with the fact that I did not know where her body was. No one told me where they had taken my child. I perseverated on this for hours. Was she cold and her body broken? Had she suffered terribly before help arrived or was her death swift and merciful? Was she still at the scene or had she been taken to a hospital? Was she already at the morgue? All I knew is that she was not here. Not with me and she never would be again.