The other night I had an interesting dream. I dreamt that my neighbors from across the street were moving out of their home in the middle of the night and that when they were done, they held a goodbye party on the deck of my house even though in real life, I don’t have a deck.
Many years ago when I was in high school, one of my classmates was killed in a car crash. It was soon after school had started the new school year. On the way back into town three of my classmates and one from the year ahead of mine were traveling by car. The driver, K., was driving under the influence and she crashed killing two, including my classmate and the one that I said was in the year ahead.
K. was sent to jail but it wasn’t long before she was released and joined us at school. She sat at my table during art class. My friends talked to her and sometimes it seemed like they got on like nothing had happened. I held my tongue but I felt that she got off with barely a slap on the wrist. I may not have been good friends with my classmate that died, but I missed her anyways.
K. moved into that house across the street from mine where she lives with another guy and kids. I’ve never spoken to her or even acknowledged her presence. The fact that we are rarely out of our houses at the same time helps matters, but still, I act as if she were a stranger.
It has taken me a long time, but I’ve let go of my resentment of her a while ago. From what I can tell, she now lives a normal and honorable life. I see her playing with the kids and she goes off to what I presume is a job. One day, I thought that even though she was responsible for the deaths of two other people, her life would also be a waste if she was to remain behind bars like I had wanted her to. I’d like to think that Heather and Jamie wouldn’t have wanted her to waste her own life.
The next time I see her, I think I will wave.
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1 comment:
When I was in college I met a guy who was also involved in a drunk driving accident. We even sat together at times to study--his girlfriend was in many of my classes--she was also pre-med.
I never met who was killed, but one of the victims mothers spoke at our college on behalf of M.A.D.D. She also spoke to my Catholic Youth Group--it was there that I could see the pain and anguish in her face. Being one of the officers of the youth group, I shook her hand and thanked her for speaking to us.
I remember seeing this guy a few days later in the library. He smiled like he usually did when he saw me and waved. I waved, but suddenly he somehow wore a scarlet letter.
He did get on with his life. He graduated the same year that I did. I hope (and I think I know) that he does live a productive life. From what I can remember, he learned from his mistakes.
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