When I was 16, I wrecked my car. I hit a loose pile of dirt on a gravel road and violently fishtailed back and forth until my top heavy explorer veered right on two wheels and came to rest in a ditch, narrowly missing solid standing trees on all sides. I escaped with no injuries, my car fully intact minus a $300 window. My parents even let me continue on to the friend's house, surprisingly understanding and glad for the lesson [safely] learned. It was nothing short of petrifying as time slowed down and I realized I had lost control. In those 8-10 seconds, I thought about a lot of things - pissed off parents, upset fiancé, losing my precious car, missing work, death. The branches on the sides of the road were so loud when they would hit me (or I them, I suppose) and all of the miscellaneous junk in my car all flew at me at one time it seemed. I remember pleading, "JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL!!" Yah was DEFINITELY with me that day.
I used to torture myself, replaying what I believed their last moments might have been like, mentally willing myself into the car, praying I could have been in their place but at the very least WITH them. I can see the backs of their heads. Hers was probably on his shoulder. They were probably holding hands. He was probably going to fast, Taylor Swift's "Fearless" album providing the soundtrack. "I don't know how it gets better than this, take my hand, drag me head first, fearless." Our anthem that summer - the summer that nothing else could go right except that the FOUR of us had each other and our music and the Lord...and that's all we'd ever need. I can hear her angelic voice, soft and sweet tinged with a thread of fear, "Randall!!"
But it's too late. By the time we see the deer in the headlights (was there fog I wonder?), we're too close. Did he even have time to think before he chose to swerve?
I wonder if time slowed for them? If they had that, "Oh, shit" moment of terror when it started to roll? (How loud is the destruction of metal?) If they cried out to Jesus (YAHSHUA) the same way I did in anguish so many nights after that one.
I would painfully pick it apart, piece by piece. Jessica fell out first, did Shane know he was alone? (Yah was with him.) I was told it was instant for both of them - quick and easy. Is death ever easy? How long did they lay there before it was over? Alone in the dark.
Their moms came in and took everything. We came home and their room was four empty walls, the only evidence of them ever being there was a half drank 20 oz coke in the window and the paint that we had done together. Except for the trim. That was all Shane. And it was all for Jess. Everything he did was for Jess and her for him. We were just thankful they went together. And thankful we still had each other, broken as we were.
We were probably about halfway through settling into our house when they died, four broke kids just rejoicing that we were able to keep the lights on. And that's how we stayed - halfway settled, sleeping on perpendicular couches in the 10 x 10 living room that became our walled fortress.
After they died, I quit caring about a lot of things. I didn't care that we didn't have hot water. I didn't care if the dishes got done. I didn't care if I ate, let alone what. I wandered, floated. All that mattered was there was now only one red car in our driveway and an empty room at the end of the hallway that we never dared disturb.
For probably at least two years after the wreck, everything ALWAYS went back to Shane and Jess (still does sometimes). I quit singing, James quit playing. I couldn't quit smoking and didn't want to. I gained a bunch of weight and became about as afraid of people as a beaten puppy, seeking solitude at every opportunity. Panic attacks. And everywhere I went, cars crashed. In my head, anyway. Sometimes I was afraid, but most of the time it just made me tearfully remember them. I would look on my rear view mirror and see my empty back seat (we rode together everywhere we went except for the night they died) and I would entertain the delusions that maybe today I might join them. I would pray that if it were okay, today "God" (Yah) might take me.
But instead, Yah has delivered me. I have found truth in the word and truth in my life and comfort through THE COMFORTER. And Yah has brought us good people, better than we deserve. Some I have now known longer than Shane and Jess and still only give them bits and pieces of me in return. I have weird little things that I do or OCD things that go back to them. A social anxiety that I hide well but is ever present. A temper that I work hard to suppress. But we are so truly blessed in so many ways.
Every February/March I slip back a little...Shane and I used to share our birth month and it was when we found Jess. July 4 is the anniversary of the crash, August 21 made Jessica exactly 6 months my junior.
And as I get older, they stay the same. Two beautiful, talented kids framed above my bed. A lovely memory.
No comments:
Post a Comment