Sunday, September 23

The Summer of 78

     Once upon a time, so many years ago. I was not supposed to live; but I did. The doctors said, according to the story, "don't expect much". I remember the days before, except for a few foggy memories I was missing for a few months. My best friend died of the same injury I had survived. The driver, walked away; ain't that the way the story always goes? I do remember Jeff and his family showing up at the hospital to visit every Sunday... according to the stories I was told, he (Jeff) was driving. If it had been my kid I would have beat the kid with in an inch of his life, then told him you will never and I do stress NEVER drive one of my vehicles again in your life. Back then it was accepted for a parent to "teach a lesson" often with a belt. I know my dad did, but then I had never killed a person and left another near death in the hospital. As for remorse, I have not heard from Jeff since. Would I like to? Well, I am not so sure. I did consider him to be one of my friends. Truly I thought him to be a better friend than most of the kids in that neighborhood. Heck, when my mom offered me a part time job at her place of work at age 13 I asked if Jeff could come too. Forgive... I guess in a way it is forgiven, I don't wake up everyday thinking of ways to get even. Then how can you really forgive something like that? Sure, the hospital bills were covered, and the cost of my recovery but how can you put a price on what that did to my life? How can you put a price on a life? I do wonder how Jeff dealt with it. Does he ever think of me, does he realize the damage beyond the totaled automobile? Yes it was an accident, but how can you live with the fact that one mistake cost one boy his life and changed the course of another's for all time. 

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