This week marks an anniversary of an old hurt, my late friend Gladys would have been celebrating her 50th birthday. I lost her much the same way I lost Cindy, in an accident with her fiancé (Lovell was also killed), and on Thanksgiving (C & B passed the Sunday after). It's ancient history, happened in 1986 when I was the tender age of 20, she was only 22.
Shortly after the accident, I'd have dreams about her wherein she'd survived and I was so relieved. It took a couple years with an expert therapist to work through that pain. What strikes me now is how the pain of losing a loved one can persist throughout a lifetime. I don't mean being stuck in a state of grief, just the dull ache of absence. The ache of not knowing the evolution of her life, and of course how our friendship would ebb and flow over the years. Sometimes simply witnessing someone's friendship that has the kind of history Gladys and I had can be a bittersweet tug at my heart. Would we have overcome life's obstacles to longterm friendship that so many others have not survived? Deep in my heart, I know we would have. We shared such a sacred trust that even our teenage bickering often turned into laughter. We were simpatico.
When I catch myself waxing nostalgic, I ask how this is present in my life today. What I never connected was my own rage at irresponsible drivers. I've always disliked this about myself, my rule-enforcing persona who stands in judgement of every inconsiderate/obstinate driver I have the displeasure of encountering.
This anniversary activated a need in me to discover what really happened to Gladys and Lovell that tragic night, all I knew up until a few days ago about the driver of the other vehicle was hearsay. Seeing it in black and white (one really can find anything on the internet) was such an incredible catharsis for my incongruous road rage.
The driver was high on PCP being chased by a sheriff, going about 80mph. He narrowly missed a female pedestrian with her two children and a block later, exploded into my friends' car. This was his third DUI offense, the first two occurring 7 months and 18 months prior to the incident. He was sentenced to 2 terms of 15 to 'life' and actually served 24 years in prison, longer than Gladys had been on the planet.
I think about the many stupid decisions I've made in my life, behind the wheel and otherwise. The disregard I've had for sacred life, the carelessness, the thoughtlessness. I'm not that different from the people of whom I stand in judgement on the road, at least my younger self is not. Now I am a pretty conscious driver, and honestly, I can only credit my life experience more than my "inner goodness."
I stand in awe of the many facets of ourselves, the road to self-discovery is so key to better treatment of our fellow man/woman. Consciousness is a gift for which I am ever-grateful. Maybe next time someone cuts me off, I won't yell so loudly. That's something Gladys (and Cindy) would be proud of.
Shortly after the accident, I'd have dreams about her wherein she'd survived and I was so relieved. It took a couple years with an expert therapist to work through that pain. What strikes me now is how the pain of losing a loved one can persist throughout a lifetime. I don't mean being stuck in a state of grief, just the dull ache of absence. The ache of not knowing the evolution of her life, and of course how our friendship would ebb and flow over the years. Sometimes simply witnessing someone's friendship that has the kind of history Gladys and I had can be a bittersweet tug at my heart. Would we have overcome life's obstacles to longterm friendship that so many others have not survived? Deep in my heart, I know we would have. We shared such a sacred trust that even our teenage bickering often turned into laughter. We were simpatico.
When I catch myself waxing nostalgic, I ask how this is present in my life today. What I never connected was my own rage at irresponsible drivers. I've always disliked this about myself, my rule-enforcing persona who stands in judgement of every inconsiderate/obstinate driver I have the displeasure of encountering.
This anniversary activated a need in me to discover what really happened to Gladys and Lovell that tragic night, all I knew up until a few days ago about the driver of the other vehicle was hearsay. Seeing it in black and white (one really can find anything on the internet) was such an incredible catharsis for my incongruous road rage.
The driver was high on PCP being chased by a sheriff, going about 80mph. He narrowly missed a female pedestrian with her two children and a block later, exploded into my friends' car. This was his third DUI offense, the first two occurring 7 months and 18 months prior to the incident. He was sentenced to 2 terms of 15 to 'life' and actually served 24 years in prison, longer than Gladys had been on the planet.
I think about the many stupid decisions I've made in my life, behind the wheel and otherwise. The disregard I've had for sacred life, the carelessness, the thoughtlessness. I'm not that different from the people of whom I stand in judgement on the road, at least my younger self is not. Now I am a pretty conscious driver, and honestly, I can only credit my life experience more than my "inner goodness."
I stand in awe of the many facets of ourselves, the road to self-discovery is so key to better treatment of our fellow man/woman. Consciousness is a gift for which I am ever-grateful. Maybe next time someone cuts me off, I won't yell so loudly. That's something Gladys (and Cindy) would be proud of.
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