A Message to Remember

by Marie-France Thompson Ashbury College

I stood in the ditch next to the highway for two hours in the freezing cold gathering information on the car crash that happened just before my very eyes. From my point of view, the boy’s wheels lost grip on the ice as he tried to avoid hitting the car that abruptly stopped in front of him. Both the driver and passenger in the car ahead of his were not severely injured and were rushed to the hospital right away. As I wrote what I had witnessed on the form, my boss comes to me and tells me in a very calm voice that I will be the one informing the parents of their son’s death. I told myself it would be easy, but the more I thought about it, the more stressed I became. Informing a stranger of a family members death is like slack lining; one little mistake leads to even more tension.

As I walked towards my cop car, the sounds of wheels spinning in the slush on the highway and the yelling all turned to silence. I turned to take one last look and took a deep breath. As the brittle snow pushed by the strong winds fell down on to my face I felt a warm tear roll down my ice-cold cheek. The teenage boy’s death brought back rushing memories of my son that passed away last year from leukemia. I slowly got into my car and drove to the address I was given. It was hard to focus on my driving, as my thoughts were fixated on my son. Since the day John passed away, he’d always been on my mind but this experience is not one anyone should have to go through.

After a short 30 minutes, I arrived at their home. Some part of me wished that I could just keep driving but a small part of me also felt that I was the right person to deliver this life-changing tragedy. From the inside of my car through my frosty window I saw the outline of a big modern house. I tried to look into their main window but all I could see through mine was something lit up of different colors. I opened my door and slowly got out of my car thinking of all the possible ways I could inform his family. I looked across the street into the window and the colorful lights were those on a Christmas tree. I looked further into their living room and was intrigued by the joyous and heartwarming family. I missed these moments the most.

I stepped around my car and walked towards the entrance. Their narrow path that lead to the door had been freshly shoveled. I finally reached their door and lingered for a few minutes. I reminded myself of the four L’s as my shaking finger rung the doorbell. Location, language, body language, and leave. Location, language, body language, and leave. A jumpy, blonde, little girl opened the door. Noticing my police uniform, she stepped back looking intimidated. I bent down a little to reach her height but she kept looking downward. So I gently asked her if I could speak to her parents. She loudly yelled, “Mom, Dad come to the door!” She then skipped back to the kitchen to join her family. I could here them talking and laughing.

I suddenly felt nauseous as both her parents came to the door. Their merry faces dropped to dazed faces. I introduced myself, “Hi Mr. and Ms. Johnson, I am officer Jordan Clarke.” The mother quickly replied with a worried but confused, “H-e-l-l-o?” I continued, “I am here to notify you of yours sons death in a car accident this morning. The medical group tried everything but it wasn’t enough to bring him back”. I paused for a while and then continued but this time differently. As I elaborated and tried to comfort them I thought to myself, the four L’s weren’t enough. I will forever remember that moment when the doctor walked into the waiting room to inform me that my son died. He was the one who informed me of the worst news of my entire life. These words were life changing, which made me responsible, so this meant more than just a list of L’s. So I reminded myself that his parents are not an inconvenience and that my words, my face, my role will always be apart of their life.

I finished by saying, “I’m sincerely sorry for your loss. I also lost my son last year, it’s not easy but you will get through this together”. I finally was able to take a deep breath as I waited for a response. His mother looked at me as her bright blue eyes filled with tears and replied, “Would you like to come in?” I stepped into their home and gave them a comforting hug. This was only the beginning of a friendship that lasted a lifetime.