Once Upon a Time...there was a girl.
Her Name was Jen.
My mom met and fell in love with a man, who moved in with them. In moved his daughter..( my age ) and his daughters boyfriend. I became close with them both. But none more than David. He was wild, crazy, funny...but the sincerity in his eyes...the sincerity, that although was sometimes an act, was soul deep. David....David was life. He was full of it. And me..I was drawn to that. He stood up for me when I was hurt. He warned my 'boyfriends' to be careful. He was everything a big brother should be. But he was more. David, and my 'sister' got married. They had a child. He looked just like David..with a splash of my sister thrown in. And he was adorable. I held him in the hospital. I saw the complete awe in Davids face, as he held his newborn son..tears...embarrassingly shed, streaking down his face. I was there..watching their family grow.
Soon..too soon after the birth of their son, David and my sister decided they weren't meant to be together. Actually, David decided this. Too young to play family man, too many wild oats still to sow..and too many ladies to do them with...They separated.
But I was still close with him. So close. He became on of my best friends. We would go out together..hang out with our 'friends'...just talk. I was more comfortable with him, than I had ever been with a guy before. It was wonderful. I remember driving down a back road, in my little blue Chevy Sprint, The Eagles.."Life in the fast lane" blaring on my cheap stereo...the windows down, going to fast..just screaming out the words together. The freedom that picture still brings to my mind.
When I was nineteen..( yes, this all happened young..) his cousin moved up from California. A bad boy. A big quarterback looking bad boy. With a roughish smile...and eyes...eyes that crinkled when he laughed..and chemistry. More chemistry than a nineteen year old girl knew what to do with. I fell for him. Hard.
We dated...we hung out. We drank..we did drugs...we fell in love. I look back now, and wonder..was it really love? And the only answer I can come up with is that...it was at the time.
But we spiraled..completely out control. Drinking more. Partying more. Our relationship was based on all the senses it seemed. Feeling good. It all felt good. Damn the consequences.
But the consequences came. And damned I was.
I was at work. It was a hot day in Southern Oregon. HOT. I was getting off work at 1:30..and called my boyfriend at home. I told him I wanted to go to the river. To my favorite place. McKee Bridge. It was a secluded place..with a covered bridge..and a place you could jump off the rocks. Beautiful. Breathtaking. I asked him to call David..see if he wanted to go, too. We'd all just head up there, and cool off. Maybe grab some wine coolers on the way.....he said that sounded fun...he'd be ready when I got there, and then we'd go pick up Dave.
I remember, after hanging up...thinking..hmm...this is a recipe for disaster. Maybe we shouldn't go. Maybe we should just hang out at my house..in the air conditioning..watch a movie or something. I called him back. He really wanted to go. Okay...I thought. I'm just being silly. Of course we should go.
After work, I head over to get him, then we go and pick up David. Before he gets in the back seat..I remember him tugging on my ponytail...and with a devils smile, leaning down and kissing my cheek. My heart just flipped. How lucky I felt to have such a good friend. We went and picked up his 'girlfriend'...then headed to the river. But not before one final stop. The liquor store.
On the way to the lake, we started drinking. I was driving, and he handed me a shot. Looking back, I can't beleive how completely DUMB I was. But at the time, it didn't even occur to me. We got to the lake, and continued drinking. And drinking...and drinking.
We talked about getting a place together. All of us. We were excited about it. The thought of spending so much time with my boyfriend..the fresh, new love...living with David, too...it all sounded so fun.
I remember thinking as my boyfriend got behind the wheel...Oh..he's too drunk to drive...So I asked him, and he said he was completely fine. We started driving home.
A long, winding road.
And my boyfriend was driving too too fast, and recklessly. He ran someone off the road....And I was scared..and out of control. But too drunk to care too much. I remember laying my head back on the seat, thinking nothing bad could ever happen to me.
We approached a little country store. David asked my boyfriend to pull in..he wanted to buy something.
He pulled in.
In front of a Ford Ranger.
It t-boned us. The inpact hitting right behind my seat..right where David was sitting. Spinning us around. I think I blacked out. I remember coming to, screaming at my boyfriend. Asking him how he could not have seen that damn car. And then seeing, everywhere, people all around us.
Someone helped me out of the car..and then I saw. David..unconcious, slumped in the back seat. His arm hanging out of the shattered window. Blood...everywhere. And his 'girlfriends' blood, all over her face..moaning...screaming...praying. And my boyfriend. Freaking out. Telling me he was going to go to jail. And me...just standing there in the caos. Not yet realizing that everything I'd ever known would be changed forever.
And changed it has. David, died 2 days later. A month, exactly since he'd turned 20. His girlfriend, after a couple reconstructive, and plastic surgeries to mend the broken skull, and eye socket, is doing well, last I heard. I've only talked to her once since the accident.
And my boyfriend...He got out of prison last October. After spending almost 7 years, for manslaughter. Of his cousin.
And me. I got off scott free. Except in my soul. I relive this over, and over. I had a scratch on my shoulder, from the seat belt. Nothing more.
Nothing.
What happened that day...will forever remain with me. All of our friends....most of them decided it was my fault. I let my boyfriend drive my car. I drank, too. And I wasn't dead, hurt, or in jail...so I got it all. All the anger, all the blame. And I know I deserved it.
I've moved on...I really have. But this time of year, Eight years after the accident....I reflect. When I was in Medford a couple months ago, I saw Davids son. He's in 3rd grade now. And he looks so much like him, it left me breathless. Davids wife has remarried, and is happy. We still keep in very close contact.
I know everything happens for a reason. And there are bittersweet memories of that day. I feel as though it was the last day of my youth. The last day I thought the world was mine. I remember, the accident happened next to a huge church. I was so drunk. Sitting there, on the steps of the ambulance...crying. I remember a man coming up..and me just bawling, saying how sorry I was, that I was a Christian, and how completely sorry I was. That man..I don't even remember his face...but I remember the warmth of his hand on my shoulder..the kindness in his voice..and he asked me to pray with him. I'll never forget that. Ever. I may have 'changed' how I view religion..but that man...he will forever be in my heart.
I think this is why I haven't really blogged since Tuesday. I've had this bottled up. Something I've never written about, and I knew, at this anniversary, it was time for it to come out. But it's hard to write all of it down. Even if I ommited some details..even if I've tried to condence it, and have it make sense to another person.. It's still hard. Because I think, no matter what, I'll always feel guilt. Always. And that is my punishment. And I take it, and I keep on moving, building a life, and hoping that I'm making good decisions. Because, the impact of that Ford Ranger was less than two inches from my seat. It could have easily been me, instead of David. I've been givin a life, where his was taken. And I hope, I pray that I will never take this life for granted.
Many people ask how I can see such wonder in the small things. How I can get so excited over something so ordinary.
Because...I'm here to see it.
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