The New Year Sadness

My wife Rachel was a charismatic, engaging woman with caring eyes, that shined a light in the darkest of times and sparkled like brilliant gems full of vibrant colors piercing the coldness of many people's hearts. She had a way of seeing the world with the admiration of a child finding something new and exciting in every mundane detail. I wondered to myself quite often what she saw in me, knowing I had done nothing to deserve this angel of goodness, she must have pitied me the day she agreed to marry me. There was no way a woman this amazing could ever have loved a man such as me.

 I was an out of shape alcoholic, who spent most of my time and money getting hammered drunk in dive bars or sleeping face-down in piles of my vomit in the back seat of my run-down Chevy Cavalier. My life was a terrible mess! Just as I thought things would never get any better, who walks into my life? Rachel, with her alluring eyes and her smile that made the Sun feel irrelevant and made every moment seem to last for an eternity.

               She became my hope, my reason to give up drinking, my chance for a better life, and through her love, my new lease on life began. It was truly incredible! My life had become filled with joy and laughter, where quiet and loving conversations replaced the shouted exchanges and the clinking glasses of the bar.

               When our son Tommy was born, I finally realized my purpose, my ultimate reason for being here. I never knew that I could love anyone that much. Watching him grow, always learning and gaining new experiences from being an infant to a toddler and then into his first days of kindergarten, he honestly was the blessing that I didn't know I needed.

 It was comical to me how much Rachel and I both influenced Tommy, helping to shape the person he was becoming. Even at a young age showing character traits of both of us at different times and sometimes combining the two, he had his mother's curiosity and zest for life and my quick wit and sarcastic sense of humor. Listening to him have conversations with his mother making her laugh uncontrollably with his tales about how he had been “helping Daddy fix the car, and someday he would teach her so she could be as good at fixing cars as him.” How he told me “I needed to take him to the park because he may be missing an adventure while I was just sitting around watching T.V.” He was delightedly a handful, and we had no one to blame but ourselves.

               New Year's Eve was always a special night for Rachel, she embraced the idea of new beginnings and resolutions, for her it was a chance for an adventure into a new year and every possibility of what was to come. She loved getting dressed up and attending parties, and every person in the room would gravitate around her for a chance to be charmed by her grace and maybe catch a glimpse of her captivating smile. New Year's was always her favorite, and she became just a little more excitable in the days leading up to the ball drop. 

 Tommy also loved New Year's Eve because he could stay up past his bedtime, and we would always end the night at our town's New Year's Celebration in the town square, they had food trucks, live music, fireworks, and of course the dropping of the ball at midnight. He would look up in awe as the fireworks crashed above, his eyes wide open, with an expression of glee on his face, as the colors flashed and changed with every sudden loud bang of the next firework exploding into the night.

 Those were by far some of the most significant moments in time and the ones that I cherish the most, spending quality time with my wife and son enjoying life and just being happy to be there together.

 On January 1st, 2012, in an instant, my whole life was irrevocably devastatingly changed. I don't remember much from that night, except that it was just like every other New Year's Eve that we have had for the past ten years. We left the house at about eight-thirty to head to my Bother Steven's house, He had a party every year, and Rachel just adored his wife, Sally. They have a couple of kids, Mikey and Rose, and Tommy was right around the same age as Rose. They loved to play together, and always looked forward to seeing each other, which gave the grown-ups some much-needed adult time while the kids enjoyed themselves.

 I never drank on New Year's Eve for fear of overdoing it, which I had an affinity for doing on occasion. That gave Rachel a chance to cut loose, although she rarely got out of hand because it was important to her to set a positive example for Tommy, who was still very impressionable. I hadn't had a drink at all in the ten years since meeting Rachel, something that I was very proud of, and she would occasionally use to poke fun of me when she had drunk a few too many.

               At ten-thirty, we began loading the children in the car so we could be at the town center before midnight and make it to the start of the fireworks. We knew there would be a crowd, and we wanted to make sure we got a great spot, Tommy had insisted.

The fireworks were fantastic, the party and atmosphere were unparalleled, we had an unbelievable time, and we entered 2012 with hopeful abandon, ready for any new obstacles placed in front of us that year. I remember looking at Rachel and Tommy that night and thinking about how I was the luckiest man on Earth.

               The drive home seemed to take longer than usual, and maybe it was just me, still caught up in the merriment of the evening's festivities. It was around one in the morning when we made the left turn onto our street, about four blocks from our house. As I approached the next block and began to cross into the intersection, I remember thinking something felt wrong, and the last thing I heard was Rachel yell, “OH MY GOD, DAVID! LOOKOUT!”

 I woke up in the hospital three days later, dazed and unsure of what had happened. The hospital staff rushed around me, making sure my vital signs were stable, checking my vision, and reaction times, however, no one would explain to me what had happened. When all the testing was thoroughly complete, and all the nurses began to file out of the room, a man with a red hospital shirt came into my room, followed by two clergymen and a police officer.

              Jonathan Franklin was the man's name, and he was the Grief Counselor for the hospital. The two Clergymen introduced themselves as Father Jacobs and Father McNally, the Hospital Chaplains, and Lt. Fredrick Randell was the Officer. Mr. Franklin informed me that there had been an accident a few days before and that they had some unpleasant and upsetting news. While on our way home, we were struck by a drunk driver as he was on his way home from a party, he was heavily intoxicated, and his name was William Haggerty Jr. He had received charges of drunk driving, failure to stop at an intersection, reckless endangerment, and vehicular homicide.

 I didn't understand at first maybe I was still a little dizzy from just waking up, and from everything that was happening. “Homicide of whom?” I questioned, petrified of the answer, but needing it to be said out loud anyway. “I'm sorry, David,” Mr. Franklin said, as he grabbed hold of my hand, “I don't know how to tell you this, but Rachel and Tommy didn't make it.”

 I was devastated! I couldn't believe it, I won't believe it, this wasn't real! I told myself for months that they weren't dead, and they would be home soon, from some trip I hadn't gone on, or they were just down the street at the park and would be back momentarily for dinner.

The first year without them was the hardest, especially on the anniversary of their deaths, I cried a lot in that first year. I hated William Haggerty, and I cursed him quite a bit. I wanted justice, and I wanted him to feel my pain. I don't remember the trial, although I know that I was in such a rage, the Bailiffs had to have me removed from the courtroom.

 Mr. Haggerty was found guilty and sentenced to twenty-five years in prison. I remember thinking that wasn't an adequate punishment, and the only thing that would have satisfied me was getting my wife and son back, and no amount of jail time was ever going to be enough.

               After eight years and many tear-filled nights, I have tried my best to move on. I have forgiven William Haggerty Jr. for his terrible decision that night, which cost me, my family. I've come to realize that mistakes happen, and wishing things were different is never going to change that. At any time before I met Rachel, that could have been me drinking and driving, and it could have been my mistakes that cost someone their life.

               The New Year's holidays are always the hardest for me, and I don't celebrate, at least not like everyone else. It doesn't signify the renewal or the beginning of something great, New Year's Eve is a sad day of mourning, loss and a reminder to me that I have survived another year without my family and nothing I can do will ever bring them back.