ONE
Sandy
Riverside National Cemetery
Riverside, California 2003
Relentlessly the tears flowed down Sandy's young face. Her father had meant the world to her. When other girls her age complained about their fathers, Sandy would shake her head in wonder. “My dad is the greatest,” she'd silently think. But now, he was gone forever. One knock on the door from two somber faced officers changed everything. The family would learn later that Army Chaplain Sandoval Seguro had been struck by shrapnel from the detonation of a suicide bomber near the U.S. Army base in Camp Arifjan, Kuwait. He was headed out to meet with a group of American and Kuwaiti soldiers for an evening of conversation about the Gospel of Jesus Christ, when an Iraqi civilian - in Kuwait illegally - detonated his chest mounted bomb resulting in the deaths of twelve American soldiers, four Kuwaiti soldiers and six civilians, including a two month old baby in her mother's arms.
Sandy was the middle child of three born to Sandoval and Iris Seguro. Until her dad’s tragic death, she always knew she had an ally in him, even as she struggled to be close to her mother. Iris Seguro, already distant and aloof due to her extremely busy career as a real estate agent, retreated further into herself and her work, leaving her girls to largely fend for themselves in their own private grief.
Oliver Grace
Oliver Grace was born on October 10, 1983 at San Francisco General Hospital to Horace Grace and Deborah Owens, aging hippies who in late 1982 woke up and realized they were running out of time to have a child. Deborah, had been pregnant twice before, but had terminated both with abortions. Her pregnancy with Oliver had been touch and go, especially in the first trimester.
“Ms. Owens,” the OB-Gyn had said without emotion, “given you've had two abortions in the past, the odds of any pregnancy going to full term and resulting in a healthy baby is remote.”
Against all odds, Oliver was born healthy and without negative side effects from his mother's lifestyle choices. A quick study, Oliver was reading by age three and half and was tackling complex mental tasks much earlier than most children.
“Horace,” Deborah announced one day just after Oliver's fourth birthday. “I'm going to home-school Oliver. He's too smart for regular school and we cannot afford private school.” Which is how it came about before Oliver's fifteenth birthday, he was graduating from high school with honors and had been accepted into nearby University of San Francisco. During his first semester at USF, fellow students would frequently mistake him as a high school student being recruited for future enrollment. But began to change when Oliver repeatedly pulled A's in all of his course work and became a bit of a minor celebrity on campus.
Graduating third in his class with a dual Bachelor of Arts in Business and in Motion Picture Sciences, he was quickly recruited to University of Southern California School of Cinematic Arts for graduate school. He soon found his passion came in the research which goes into every great film. Two years later as he took the stage to accept Student Filmmaker of the Year at USC, he said: “It's the back story, the untold story which sets the culture for all good films and that's what I love. To dig in deep and discover what is going on in the background because that is what will eventually influence what the camera decides to show the viewing public.”
In the audience was nineteen-year old Sandy Seguro. She was there to watch one of her best friends receive his degree. But, when Oliver took the stage and began to talk, Sandy's brown eyes lit up with a sense of wonder and thought: “I wonder how I'm going to meet this man?”
At the post ceremony reception, Sandy boldly walked up to Oliver and said, “I'm Sandy. I really liked what you had to say. Could we get a coffee some time?”
As Oliver and Sandy began dating, numerous studios in Hollywood and in Europe began to pursue him. He was tempted by a couple of the offers, but the one from Motion Pictures For Tomorrow Studios was the most intriguing. It wasn't only the money and financial rewards, but it was also about the types of films they made that interested him. Their films were profitable, but also intelligent. Oliver wanted to make the kind of films would cause the viewer to lie awake at night thinking about the implications of what they'd just seen, and this seemed to be the perfect fit. It was certainly a plus they were located in Hollywood not far from Sandy’s home in Pasadena.
Oliver and Sandy
Laguna Beach, California 2011
“Sandy, you know I love you. And I know you love me.” Oliver said nervously while taking a knee. The sun was setting in the background over Heisler Park in Laguna Beach, one of their favorite places for love and romance. A gentle wind blew the warm late August ocean breezes across them as they watched the V formation of California brown pelicans effortlessly glide by.
Somewhere nearby, a street musician was playing the saxophone. “Sandy, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife. If you will, I will love you all the days of my life!” Tears ran down Sandy's face, ruining her carefully applied makeup as she screamed in girlish delight: “Yes! YES! Of course! Oh, Oliver!” she shouted as she wrapped her arms around his neck in a boa constrictor like squeeze of unrestrained joy.
“I'm so happy, but can you lighten up, I can't breathe.” Oliver choked.
Later that evening after a romantic sunset dinner at a little Mexican place overlooking the ocean, they sat in one of their favorite coffee houses just down Pacific Coast Highway in Newport Beach. “Sandy, I want children. Are you sure you are okay with that? Do you really want to be a mother?” Oliver asked.
“Yes, of course. I've always wanted children, especially since my father died. I’ve wanted a family like never before. I want to be a stay-at-home mom because I cannot do to my children what my mom did to my sisters and me. Kids need their mothers. We are in agreement on this, right?” she asked seeking confirmation. This wasn't the first time they had discussed this, but Sandy wanted to be absolutely certain her and Oliver were in unity on this point.
Demetrius Grace
Colorado Springs, Colorado
Nine months prior to present day
Confused by the flashing lights of the squad car in the driveway streaming into his bedroom and the incessant knocking on the door, Demetrius Grace had been awakened from a deep sleep. As he stumbled to the front door in a sleep induced haze he noticed that his nightstand alarm clock displayed that it was 1:13am. Opening the door, he heard the Police Officer say, “Sir, are you Demetrius Grace?”
Demetrius was deeply confused. “Why is there a cop at my door? Where is April? What is going on?” were his unspoken thoughts. Interrupting Demetrius' confusion the Police Officer spoke again. “Sir, are you Demetrius Grace?” “Uh. Yeah. I'm Demetrius Grace. Why? What's going on?” he said in reply.
“May I come in, sir? I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news.”
Once they settled in the living room, the Policeman spoke again, this time in a quieter and more gentle manner. “Your wife, April Grace, was in a terrible accident on the interstate earlier this evening.” Pausing to make certain that Demetrius understood, he continued. “I’m terribly sorry to tell you this, but… she didn't survive.”
It was if a massive earthquake and hurricane touched down simultaneously. Demetrius' entire world shifted with those words: 'She didn't survive.' “Is this real? April can’t be dead. I just saw her this morning before she went to work. We drank coffee and ate oatmeal. She’s only 23 years old. She simply can’t be dead!” Demetrius’ head swirled in denial and confusion.
Demetrius and April had loved each other since their second year in High School. There had never been another woman for Demetrius or another man for April. It was as if they were made precisely for one another. Even in High School people couldn't get over the depth of their love for one another. It was unusual and beautiful. They were best friends and had married the day after they graduated from college. Scraping together every penny they could manage they spent a week in Hawaii on a dream honeymoon. Sunrises, sunsets, romantic walks, snorkeling and all the great things young lovers do in the land of Aloha. All of this was less than one year ago. And with these words, their life together as husband and wife was over in less than one circle of the Earth around the Sun.
April's death was too much for Demetrius to handle. He managed to keep it together through the funeral, and the immediate aftershocks, but inside a large part of him was gone. Dead. Lost. Spinning. Out of control. He simply wasn’t equipped. “With April gone, what’s the point?”
“Oliver,” he confessed to his older brother in a phone conversation about a month after April's death, “I just don't know what to do. I reach across the bed for her, and she isn't there. I call out to her a hundred times a day, and she isn't there. All of our plans, all of our dreams are gone. I see her clothing in the closet and I smell her scent. What will I do when I can't remember her scent, or her voice? Worse yet, what if I forget her face? Did you know she was planning on starting grad school in the fall? Did you know she wanted to plant tomatoes this summer?”
Sandy and Oliver struggled in what to say to Demetrius. Their love for April was strong too. She was an amazing young woman. Sometimes they felt guilty because they still had each other and their dreams. When they could pray, they cried out, “God, you've got to do something for Demetrius. You've got to help him through this. We don't know what to do. It's too big for us,” they prayed in tears.
As the weeks turned into months, Demetrius was able to work again, but he'd lost a step. His spark and zeal were gone. He was a shadow of his former self. “I'm just going through the motions,” he admitted to a co-worker. “I'm doing everything I can to get from one sunrise to another sunset without completely falling apart. April is gone. I get that. But who am I without her?”
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