The Right Thing
Jennifer
When my grandmother died in a two car accident at around age 75, my family was pretty convinced that she had desired her death, and I decided that the uninjured teenage driver of the other car deserved to know that. My family agreed, and (partly since it was my idea, and partly since I was a teenager myself) I was the one who called him on the phone, and told him Ö gosh, what DID I say? I think I explained who I was and then said that we thought that she might have been trying to kill herself and that we were glad he hadn’t been hurt. I think he mumbled “Oh†and then there was a kind of uncomfortable silence and I said goodbye and hung up. Every now and then, I muse on the situation, and reconsider whether she really had desired her death, and whether the call was of any use to him then or ever. Did he muse on it every now and then and wonder if that was really why I called? Or had he already (a few days later) essentially forgotten an unpleasant incident? Did my family really think it was true or were some in my family deceiving themselves and/or others in order to feel better?
I’m trying to imagine myself as a teenager at the other end of the line from your call, and I think I’d be in a state of shock, and unable to say more than “Oh” myself. Now imagine that former teenager grown-up. By now, he may have been able to reconcile most of the conflicts and if you reminded him of it, he’d say, “Wow. That was so cool of her to call.”
Who knows, maybe he’ll see this blog, and we’ll get some feedback.
Comment by rakkity — April 7, 2005 @ 12:24 pm
A friend of mine, Donna, was engaged to a boy who was late one Christmas for dinner. He had accidently killed an elderly person in a car accident on the way to her house. If he had received a call like the one you made, it would have changed his life. It took him years to recover, or at least move on. There were no charges brought against him as it was clearly an accident. He broke the engagement Donna and years later, after I had married, we were at a cookout at my in-laws and there was John…he had married the neighbors daughter, and he had three daughters of his own. Talk about a small world. As soon as he saw Mark, who he remembered, he came right over and talked about his life and asked how Donna was. Donna had married another man named John and subsequently divorced him. Then she married a man named Bob and divorced him. She is currently married to a man named Tim. Anyway, I stray. Forgiveness takes people a very long way. If you are involved in an accident and someone dies, there are obviously no good feelings to come from it. But I’m sure you aided this kids healing a great deal. I’m sure he’s relived your phone call countless times. You don’t forget that type of “unpleasant incident”.
Comment by chris — April 7, 2005 @ 2:13 pm
Thanks, Rakkity, Chris. I’m surprised not to be questioned on why we were “pretty convinced”, but that version of the story was never going to get finished.
Comment by jennifer — April 7, 2005 @ 7:05 pm
I had a longer comment that I inadvertently deleted. After the two above, it is just as well. In it’s most distilled form: I can’t imagine making that call as a teenager. But I can (paradoxically) see your daughter Hil ( I don’t know Cat well enough), if need be, making the same call.
Comment by michael — April 7, 2005 @ 8:04 pm
Come to think of it, I wasn’t a teenager anymore. Reconstructing it, I was 21, a senior in college.
Hey, I still want to know how to get my computer to “remember [my] personal info”.
Comment by jennifer — April 7, 2005 @ 8:14 pm