That's How

Sometimes you wonder how you will find out horrible sad news.
Will it be a call? A text? There is no good way.

I found out with one look.

I only needed to look at his red eyes and I knew exactly what had happened and I knew I needed to tell the kids.

There was no time to waste - if today went like it should've (right, ok, I see the arrogance in imagining THAT) I would've been loading Zack into the car to get Zoe to then go get icees at this very second or maybe two minutes ago.

I open the door to Zack's room and he jumps up from his bed and looks at my face.

 I don't say a word I raise my eyebrows and exhale.

 One second passes.

Two. I say nothing.

Grief attacks my son him like a flash fire from an invisible lightning strike and he falls wordlessly into the "after" that comes "after" losing someone you love.

Ten minutes later I'm at Zoe's school.

She jumps into the car all smiles. Today was a big day.

 Before she can ask if we can this or that or go or get I exhale and look at her, wordless, still.

She mirrors my face and reads my mind and breaks down in tears.

So that's how I told them.