Withhold Judgement...

A few days ago I read a story about a family that is facing a horrific tragedy. One of their children had been hit by a car and died. And then the police arrested the parents and charged them with child endangerment and neglect.

The mother was with the two children I want to say at the park but I can't remember where they were starting from, when the dad called from the store a few blocks away. The boys wanted to go meet him there so she let them. The 10 year old and the 7 year old. The 10 year old was on the phone with the dad when the 7 year old stepped off the curb into the path of an oncoming car. The dad heard his older son yelling at his younger one, NO! and then...

When Katie was around 10 we let her walk places on her own, or with Candy. Candy was our friend's dog and when we would dog sit Katie would take her for walks. She wasn't allowed to cross the busy streets, just the side streets. Which is how she figured out she could get all the way to Albertsons through the park trails. Which was about a mile away. Quite the jaunt. And done without a cellphone or tracker on her so we had no idea where she was until she got back. By the time she was 12 she was walking down to Bethany Village for lunch.

Friends of ours who were parents were shocked that we let her go out on her own like that. Which I was boggled by. I started walking myself to school at 6 and I knew that most of them had as well. Keys on strings of yarn around our necks. We were feral and drank from garden hoses and all that bullshit. Why wouldn't I let my kid walk to Godfathers by herself? She knew how to walk safely and that she needed to leave a tip. For me that was good. Sure there were times I worried when she took a little longer than normal, but parents worry. It's our job.

The comments on the story about the two little boys walking two blocks to meet their father was savaged with people who thought that arresting the parents was a good start. That they should be drawn and quartered. Their living child should be taken from them.

My parents had three children that I never met. Two older sisters and an older brother. The girls died shortly after they were born. My brother died when he was 6 or 7. I don't remember which and I don't have the family bible to double check, but I want to say he was in first grade. When we would travel back to Iowa in the summer to visit my grandparents we would stop at the cemetery where they were all buried and have a picnic lunch. It was the only time Mom and Dad had all of their children together. My mother would say that she knew they weren't there, not really, that they were in heaven, but the only part of them that she ever got to hold was there so it was all she had.

My two older sisters died 15 and 13 years before I was even born. My brother 6 or 7. They were long gone before I would be forming memories of those cemetery lunches. But my mother still spoke about the what ifs. What would Susan have been like if she had two older sisters? How would John have been if his best friend and brother Mark was still alive? They were less than a year apart in age and did everything together. Well, almost. They weren't together when Mark died. And I don't think John ever got over the guilt.

See, Mark was hit by a car. It was raining. He was walking home from school. The truck driver didn't see him.

My parents lived with that for the rest of their lives. It probably still haunts my brother.

There is no punishment that could have been added on to it.

I don't judge those parents. I don't think they were being neglectful. I think they were trying to give their kids a little freedom, as all parents should do, and there was a tragic accident. The driver wasn't at fault. The parents weren't at fault. The older brother wasn't at fault. But none of them will ever fully recover from it.

I know. I grew up in a house with ghosts. Full of what ifs and if onlys.

And my parents still let me walk to school on my own.

And I still let Katie walk to the store on her own.

I hope they drop the charges against the parents. And I hope that family finds some peace and some healing. It's a tragedy. Nothing but a tragedy.

The staying power of a tragedy like this is that I read the story about this family on Monday and I have dreamed about my parents every night since. I cannot hear a story like this without thinking about them. About what they lived through. About how they had three children at home when Mark died and they had to just keep going. Like I said, Mark died 6 or 7 years before I was even born. The girls another 6 or 7 beyond that, but if you ask me I will tell you I come from a family of 7 children, but only 4 of us are alive now. I never met them, but I still lived with them. I still live with those memories. Hopefully tonight my parents will rest easier.