When I was 12, a car hit my 5-year-old sister and me. Tiffany
and I were riding a bike on a busy street. The woman who hit us was
distracted for one short second by her baby, who was crying.
When I was 12, a car hit my 5-year-old sister and me. Tiffany and I were riding a bike on a busy street. The woman who hit us was distracted for one short second by her baby, who was crying.
We were lucky. The driver wasn’t going fast at all. We had bruises and I broke a rib or two. Nobody died. But I never forgot two things about the accident: 1) We got to have McDonald’s for dinner that night – something my mother rarely allowed; and 2) The driver of the car was hysterical and kept apologizing to us, the police, the paramedics and my mother. She couldn’t stop crying.
I’ve never forgotten how that woman reacted. I can’t remember why we were in that place, on that bike, at that time. But I remember that woman crying. She was devastated by what could have happened.
And that’s part of why I was so saddened yesterday to hear Edwin Diaz’s call to GUSD families regarding the death of Julio Gonzalez. I kept remembering the apologies and tears from the woman who hit my sister and me. And I couldn’t help but feel for the driver of the car that hit Julio. I can’t imagine living with the pain she must feel – or the pain she has caused.
Because of course, there is Julio himself. The death of a child is a terrible thing. My grandmother once told me that to outlive your children was the worst thing that could happen to a parent. I hope like heck I will never know that pain.
It’s a funny thing, to be a parent. You want your kids to grow up to be safe and happy and sound. And just like kids, you dream of what they will be when they grow up. Will they be rock stars? Or truck drivers? Or engineers? Or writers? Kids have those dreams – and so do we.
What we don’t dream about is life without them. We never think that someday we may have to live without our children. We always think that someday they will have to live without us. So we teach them to be self-sufficient. We teach them to do things like walk to school with friends or siblings – or, in my case, to take a sister on a bike ride without mom along. And we have to trust that they know what to do. To look both ways. To “stop, look and listen” before crossing a street.
And then one day, it doesn’t work. According to published reports on Wednesday, Julio, his brother, and the driver of the car did everything right. She stopped at the stop sign. She wasn’t chatting on a cell phone. The children watched for traffic. So what happened?
I certainly don’t know. But because I’m lucky and survived being hit by a car, I can tell you that it only takes a split second for everything to change.
And how do you teach your child that? By today, there will be much more happening. People will start funds for Julio’s family. Some will take sides. Some will call for the arrest of the driver. And others will remain sad, but thankful that it wasn’t their child who was killed, that it wasn’t their wife/friend/mother that drove the car.
And I hope that people will take this tragedy to heart and change some of their driving habits. As we’ve seen, even people who do everything right, can have things go horribly wrong.
You know, I live close to Junior’s school. And for the last few years, I’ve watched a woman speed down the street, run the stop sign at the intersection where kids cross, park her car and then walk her child to school or pick her child up.
And I’ve never said a word to her. Instead I’ve just gossiped about her to neighbors an friends and hoped like heck that if she did ever hit a child, it wouldn’t be mine.
That’s a terrible attitude. And I’m ashamed of it. And today, I think I might have the courage to tell her to knock it off. Because as all of us now know, no matter how careful you are, it only takes a second for life to change – and to end. My prayers and thoughts are with Julio’s family and with the driver. I hope all of you can find peace and forgiveness – for yourselves and each other.
Laurie Sontag is a Gilroy writer and mom who wishes parenthood had come with instructions. Her column is syndicated. She can be reached at la****@la**********.com.
