Vanessa Mauffray
Vanessa’s Story
January 11, 2018
Robert’s Story
January 17, 2018

Sarah’s Story

Sarah

Sarah

My daughter Sarah was born on Labor Day, Sept. 3, 1990. She could light up a room anywhere she was. She graduated H.S. June 2009. Sarah was involved with her little sister and brothers, she was the typical big sister, picking on them, helping out with homework, Scouts, literally everything.
On Oct. 31, 2012 – Halloween night – Sarah was out making the rounds from bar to bar, seeing friends, dancing, drinking, having fun. She made the decision to get in her car and drive without wearing her seatbelt.
In May 2012, I was in the process from moving to Illinois from Texas to help my friend with her sick mom. I was putting what I couldn’t take in to Sarah’s car so I could send for them later. While outside, I started crying and we were hugging. Sarah said ” Don’t cry mom, you’ll be back.” Little did I know that six months later, at 5;30 am, I got ” THE CALL.”
It was her Dad and Stepmom. They said ” Something happened to Sarah.”
I said ” What?”
” She was in a crash.”
I said ” Is she dead?”
” YES.”
At that very moment my life changed like never before. All I could do is scream ” NOT MY BABY, NOT MY BABY.” I got a flight out that day to Austin and arrived about 9 pm. Her stepmom Sherene and my niece picked me up. Sherene walked to me and cried and hugged and shook. We got over to her dad’s and he came out and we cried and hugged. All I wanted was to see My Sarah. He told me not until the next day at the funeral home. When we got there the next morning, all I could do is cry and hug her and try and warm her up. It’s the MOST helpless feeling! I wanted her to wake up, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen.
After a few months, Sherene gave me the autopsy report. Her BAC was .246. She broke her neck and severe head trauma. Burying my daughter was something I never wanted to do. I suffer from PTSD, depression, anxiety and insomnia.
This is my mission in life is to tell Sarah’s story and make a difference. I miss her so much it’s like a stabbing knife in the gut. But I made a promise to keep her alive by educating others on how bad this is, and it needs to stop!

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