The Day We Became Broken

Broken Family

Almost 10 years ago now our 8 year old daughter was hit and killed by a car near our home. That was the day my family was broken.

It was October 2000. My 9 year old son and his father had been playing video games all day together in the living room of our small 12 x 70 trailer. I myself had been outside with my 8 year old daughter and 7 year old son. They had discovered an old fold out couch in the garage and had folded it out and been jumping up and down on it for quite a long time.

The day was growing late and it was time for me to make supper. I called them inside with me and began to prepare the evening meal. My daughter, who was just simply a little doll and new how to get her way, begged me to let them go back out to jump on the bed some more while I cooked.

I didn’t like to let them be outside a lot without supervision, as we were pretty close to a busy road, but I had taught them the rules about going near the road and both of these kids were usually pretty good at listening when it was important to do so. I also knew I could look out the window and watch them while I cooked, so I gave in. I made them promise to stay IN the garage and not wander off where I couldn’t see them. They did and I allowed them back out for a short time.

As I got the food prepped I glanced out the window to watch them play on and off and had to smile at how amused they were by this simple couch/bed. Once I got the food cooking I stood at the counter and talked to my older son and his father as they played. I lost track of time and got a little sidetracked by the game for only about 10 minutes.

Suddenly my youngest son came bursting through the front door. The look on his face is one that still turns my stomach and makes me want to cry. Worse yet were the immediate words that came out of this 7 year old child’s mouth, “Mommma! Daddy! Ashley and I tried to walk to the store by ourselves and she got hit by a car and I think she’s dead.” Even as I sit here and type this I am sick in my stomach and cannot help but cry.

I do not cry for my loss, even though I miss my daughter, but I cry because NO 7 year old child should have to witness what he saw. No 7 year old child should have to tell his parents what came out of his mouth at that moment. And to this day I do not understand how out of all of us, he has survived this as well as he has and is probably the strongest and healthiest of us.

I’m going to change this for a moment to tell you his story. I didn’t get this part of it right away of course but over the following weeks here is the story he not only told anyone who would listen but he would get his toys out and show anyone who had the patience to let him.

Apparently he and his sister had found some change in the garage while they were playing. Ashley, my daughter, thought it would be nice to walk to the store and get us all snacks with the money. My son was afraid but adored his sister and agreed to go as well. About halfway there he got really worried and begged her to go back. They had already crossed the road and going back meant crossing again. She argued with him but finally gave in and agreed to go back.

When they crossed back there were cars coming. The first one missed them but it slowed down so not to hit them and the one behind it passed the first car on the dirt (right side of the car) and hit Ashley so hard that she flew in the air. Her shoes even flew off her feet. The car however continued down the road and we never did find out who the other car was as it simply never stopped.

Johnny watched the angels come down to Ashley’s lifeless body and take her to heaven. He even told me later that he asked them not to and they told him they had to. He then ran into the road and retrieved her shoes and ran all the way to the house alone to get us.

John (my husband) and I immediately flew out the door. I took my son to show me where she was but had him point down the road for his father, who took off like a shot to go find her. I myself then took my 7 year old back inside to grab my 9 year old, who had not even gotten dressed that day. I quickly got him into some clothes and put them both in our vehicle to go and help John with Ashley.

By the time I got to the scene the ambulance was already there, a neighbor had called. Little did I know that the man who hit my daughter was parked in this neighbors yard, almost 3/4 of a mile away.

I parked the van away from the scene a slight bit so the boys wouldn’t see their sister in whatever condition she was in. I jumped out and was immediately stopped by someone from going near her. Nobody would let me see her.

My husband was at her side crying and I was screaming so loud that I later found out I gave the poor ambulance crew nightmares.
They put Ashley in the ambulance and told me nothing. John was clearly in shock but still unsure of Ashley’s true condition. I called my mother from the scene and she said she would send somebody to come get us and the boys and meet us at the hospital.

We took the boys back to the house. My mother’s friends arrived and by now things are getting foggy for me but I’m pretty sure we sent the boys with them and then drove ourselves to the hospital.

When we arrived we saw a LOT of family in the parking lot. Many had heard it on scanners or via the grapevine. My first sight was that of John’s Uncle holding my mother up as she was crying and almost collapsing. At that moment I knew. I knew my daughter didn’t make it but somehow I held it together for just a little longer.
Things get really blurry from here. This is about the time I went into shock that I didn’t come out of for weeks.

I remember going into the room they had my daughter in and seeing her but somehow it wasn’t her. The light was gone from her. I remember my sister-in-law almost collapsing in the room and someone caught her and then helped her leave.

I don’t know how long we stayed but eventually too much family had shown up and we had to move the gathering to John’s Uncle’s house. I had to leave my daughter but it didn’t feel like I was leaving her because somehow that wasn’t her and I knew it. She was already gone.

That night it snowed and when the snow began to fall the song “I Hope You Dance” came on the radio. The next day my 7 year old said that Ashley had made it snow. I believe that to be true and “I Hope You Dance” became a very fitting song for her, one I still cannot listen to without crying.

I remember being at our Uncle’s house and I remember a LOT of family and friends being there but I don’t remember it clearly and couldn’t tell you who I saw. I think the boys spent the night with my mother that night but I don’t remember if it was the next day they came home or if it was a couple of days.

I know people were in and out of our home a lot over the next few weeks but I can’t really remember who.

My mother helped me plan the funeral and she called a lawyer to sue the man who had killed our daughter. I couldn’t have. I barely knew the world was still functioning because I was just barely doing so.

There is a lot more to this story because it is ongoing but this was the night my family got broken. I know that some of that blame is on me because I could not function for a long time after.

My younger son did what I call “self therapy” and he talked about it all the time to anyone who would listen. John and I cried a lot but mostly when we were alone so others would not worry so much. My oldest son wouldn’t look at pictures of his sister, wouldn’t talk about her, and would leave the room when others were talking about her.

Somehow we each got through it in our own way. We did do a lot of things together and both boys did go to a counselor for a while, but mostly everyone just dealt with it the best they could and on their own.

I don’t blame myself or at least I forgive myself for my part in the brokenness of the family members. I did the best I could. I loved them. I protected them. I tried to be there for them but nobody wanted to upset me so I also know that often times they didn’t want to talk to me about how they were feeling for fear of my bursting in to tears.

THE COURTCASE:
The legal case dragged on for a long time. Too long for a grieving family who was just barely surviving a tragedy like this. The lawyers on the side of this driver were trying to blame me. They tried to dig up dirt to make me a bad mother and sent letters to me stating as much. I know now they were trying to get me to give up and it worked. I couldn’t take any more. I finally had a nervous breakdown which almost landed me in the hospital and I said enough is enough.

I called our lawyer and said “SETTLE”. So he did. No amount of money could replace my child but what we received was a slap in the face considering our loss. Not to mention that the driver told 5 different stories throughout the proceedings, none of which made sense or matched anything close to what our 7 year old said happened, but because he was 7 nobody would listen.

So in the end, his insurance covered the little that we received and he walked away with no charges and no repercussions. Still I hope that he has survived this as well and that it didn’t break him the way it has broken each of us in some way.

THE AFTERMATH:
It is almost 10 years later now and the remnants of that day’s tragedy linger on.

My youngest son is, of all of us, probably the most healthy. He has his own issues but he has a good heart and is a good friend to me and his friends and family. His main issue is that since Ashley died he won’t show physical affection to anyone. He doesn’t like to be touched and won’t even shake hands, much less hug someone. He is full of love for everyone but completely unable to express it in the typical ways. He does have his own unique ways of sharing that love, as he will readily tell you, but he will not hug or touch anyone, even me.

My older son is full of anger. He is so smart yet he doesn’t seem to care. I know there is love there but again I feel there is a fear to show it and it turns to something more aggressive and hurtful. I worry for him. He has major mood swings and often takes things that are said to him in unintended ways and then becomes violent in his language and energy. I think he blames one of us for Ashley’s death, maybe even me, but he’s never verbalized it. I don’t know how he is with others, as he has moved far away from us, but with us he is always very angry and I worry that his anger is going to become harmful for him.

My husband has terrible flashbacks to that day. It has also brought forward childhood memories that are beyond what anyone should have gone through as a child. He bottled it up for a long time and now his body is paying the price. He has trouble even walking short distances and is in pain constantly. He is still severely depressed and blames himself. He still grieves for her every day. It hurts him to think about her and yet there are some days where that is still all he does.

Me, I was in shock for years. I functioned in what I call an “auto pilot” state. I am more awake and aware now but there are a lot of years that are fuzzy for me. Life went on but for a while I think I was all but dead too. I still cry when I talk about this because it IS painful. I still miss Ashley all the time. At the same time I know she would not want our lives to stop and so I move forward.

I try to be there for my oldest and my husband but I don’t always know how to help them. My youngest and I have developed a new special bond and friendship that I cherish but it sometimes hurts me that I cannot hug him. He is so strong and tries to be there for us all but I worry that is too much for him and someday it will take it’s toll on him too.

Before this tragedy, we were a close family. We were happy. We laughed and joked and played together. We loved each other fiercely. We all had our unique relationships with each other and with Ashley but we had a strong family together.

Looking back I can see who we were and who we’ve become and I know what changed it all.

I still believe everything happens for a reason and that we all chose these paths. I believe that every single one of us can learn and move forward even now. For some of us that is going to take longer than others and for some it is going to take a long and twisting path to get there, but I believe that every member of this family still has it in them to heal from this.

All I can do is love every single one of them and allow them the time and sometimes the space they need to get wherever it is they need to get to.

All in all our family is not completely broken. I know that we all still love each other even on the days we have trouble admitting it. We are still a family and our bond is in tact. I also know that the parts of us that became broken on that day got worse over time but still have the ability to heal and be whole again. They might not heal completely as they were but they can heal.

That day a very special part of each of us was taken. That day my children not only lost their sister but they lost their parents too because for a long time John and I were not the same and even though physically we were there, mentally we weren’t completely. That day I lost a part of my husband. That day he lost a part of his wife. We have all had to change and accept changes in one another. We have all been scarred and lived with some broken parts of ourselves and each other. Love is what got us through this as far as we’ve come. Love and commitment to each other.

It’s been 10 years and I am just barely becoming whole again, or at least mostly whole. There is still a long road ahead for this family but I know the strength within it and I have no doubt in my mind that we can weather this storm and come out on the other side of it someday together once again.

I do not walk this path alone. None of us do. I know that my choice is life. I plan to live in honor of my daughter not in mourning for her. I plan to make the most of each day even though I do not get to spend them with her here in the physical any longer. She was a bright light in our lives but though she was taken from the physical her light remains within each of us.

MOVING FORWARD:

Even though it sounds like we have not survived this well, I don’t believe that. My husband and I have suffered greatly because of this but also we have learned and are able to share that with others. We help others through our ability to understand and share ourselves.

We still have really tough moments or even tough days but we love each other intensely. We are the best of friends and support each other more than ever. We are able to share a life together that has it’s difficult moments but also contains beauty and adventure.

My sons have suffered greatly because of this but they have also learned what true strength is, even if they don’t always realize it. They have learned about life and about loss. They haven’t finished what they will learn from this but when they do they will be able to take this all into the world and do what they are meant to do with it.

I believe in every one of us and in the strength within us. I have seen it firsthand, even when they have not seen it in themselves.

THE NOW:

As I write this I have to admit that right now my older son and I are severely at odds. I know that a lot of this has to do with anger he has carried for a long time. I know that he blames me for a lot of things and has spent a good part of his teenage/young adult years angry at me and his father and even if he doesn’t realize or admit it, I know that it is deep seated in this tragedy that he has not yet entirely come to terms with. I have done my best, which may not have been as good as some and might be better than others, but it was my best and now I have to let him walk his own path and do what he needs to do to get where he wants or needs to be. And even though it pains me to watch him struggle, I know that he has it within him to do this.

As I write this my youngest son is making plans to move out and go away to school, which is frightening for me. I know, that even though he won’t admit it, this is hard for him as well. I also know that he is strong and loving and that he is ready to do this. I love him enough to let him walk his path and let him go.

As I write this my Husband is sleeping next to me and would probably be horrified that I’ve shared this as openly as I have but at the same time I know he would support my writing of our story with all that he is. He is stronger than he realizes. He has walked a harder path than any of us and some days I cannot imagine how he still survives all that he has endured in his life.

As I write this I want you all to know that I do not feel sorry for myself. I love my life. I miss my daughter and I still struggle with the difficulties this tragedy has left in our family but I do not spend my days in sorrow. I live my life one day at a time. I live my life happy. I enjoy the little moments and deal with life as it comes.

Life is a journey full of twists and turns. You never know what is going to happen from one moment to the next. Some days will be filled with pain and sorrow for a situation that may arise and others still will be filled with love and beauty. Still there will be moments that surprise you and moments that shock you. Every day is an adventure waiting to unfold. Every moment brings new lessons into your life. Enjoy the journey, allow yourself to experience all that is whether it be good or bad. But do not get stuck in any of it or you might miss what comes next.

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The following 2 videos are parts one and two of a radio interview that Tracy did about grief and the loss of a child.