8/20/2019
There are losses that rearrange the world. Deaths that change the way you see everything, grief that tears everything down. Pain that transports you to an entirely different universe, even while everyone else thinks nothing has really changed…..Megan Divine
As I pour my drink over the overflow of ice in my glass, I reflect back to yesterday, wondering about the words I would use to start this piece, this testament. I have been out of sorts since yesterday afternoon, unable to totally identify my emotions. I guess one might say, I may have even been in a mild state of shock.
It was a good Monday; it’s always a good day when I get to drive the truck. The truck had been at the garage for preventive maintenance and a co-worker drove me to go pick it up in Beaumont. If I got back early enough, they might give me a route to run so I could finish my day on the road. I was kinda frustrated because some of the work wasn’t done nor had they fueled it up like they were supposed to. FINALLY, I was on the road.
Traffic started slowing and backing up right around the 69 & 347 split. I initially thought nothing of it as there was construction in the area. As I got closer to the prisons and jails, it got significantly worse. That’s when I noticed the huge wrecker blocking both southbound lanes on 69. I also noticed they were diverting traffic down the entrance ramp. I knew at that point something was significantly wrong. As I crept along the feeder road , I found it odd, the lack of vehicles. It was then that I noticed the blue tarp. I knew what that meant and my heart sank. I was sad but not to the point of tears.
Then I saw it. The shoe. The angle, the oddity of it, the loneliness. I burst into tears though I couldn’t understand why. In my younger years I was going to be a mortician so I had been around dead bodies before. I have seen countless accidents as a first or early responder (I’ve even been in a couple). Why did this have such an impact on me? Historically, I start praying and asking God to protect the first responders and to keep His hand on those involved; that if someone had passed, to be merciful and receive them and to be with their families and provide peace and comfort to all. This time all I could muster through the hard cry was a panicked “I don’t know what to pray Daddy!” followed by a more resigned and helpless plea “I don’t know what to pray”. I cried all the way back to the shop.
It was not lost on me that had things gone smoothly at the garage, I would’ve never seen “the shoe”. Why did I need to see it? To tell a story? But what story? Whos’ story? I didn’t know the young man. I just know that I felt very driven to write.
I can’t help but wonder if we walked any of the same paths, passed each other somewhere or ate at the same places. It didn’t matter that he had just been released from the county jail. I don’t know why he was in jail. It didn’t matter if he was there for a hot check or drug possession. What I do know is he was someone’s child. He had friends and family that loved him; that will miss him. While the rest of the world will shake off their casual experiences and go on with life as usual, their world will forever be changed. This is their “new normal”.
As for the 66 year old man that hit him, his life too is forever changed. Will he ever have the courage to get behind the wheel again? Will he relive this nighmare every night for the rest of his life? Will he turn to drugs or alcohol to drown out the guitly conscience or to dull the sight and sound of the life that just ended? Will he ever quit second guessing himself or forgive himself even though it wasn’t his fault?
All of these people need our prayers. The driver, the pedestrian, those at the scene and those behind the scenes. You never forget tragedy and you never forget the ones you love. You never forget the sites, smells, sounds or events surrounding either. As I write this 5 years later, I haven’t forgotten the way 2 strangers entered my life, none of us ever the same.
Here it was just another Monday. A good day. Then I saw the shoe.
Leave a Reply