in the quiet.

I wrote a few months ago about Zack, who was killed as a passenger of a car wreck during a police chase. It was extremely sad, and even though I only knew him mostly as the guy on the bike who rode past our house all the time, the news of his death was so shocking and heavy to me. I can’t really explain the loss I felt for this man because you’d probably think I was crazy. To put it shortly, I was most devastated at the lost opportunity to know him.

On the day of his funeral, which I was too chicken to attend, I sent a copy of the poem I had once written about him to his mother, Vicky. I didn’t know her either, but she had set up a memorial website for him so I knew that knowing that he affected people was important to her.

Yesterday, I received a letter back.

It was very heartfelt and appreciative, and she apologized for taking so long to respond. This woman, who just lost one of her two sons in such a horrific manner, was apologizing to me. I knew instantly that not only was Zack a good person, he came from a good family. She also sent me a few copies of some of his drawings, which were very good. I’m glad she knew that I would appreciate them.

I don’t really know why I am writing about this. Nobody really cares about this correspondence, but it just amazes me that sometimes something so simple as a letter (or a poem in Vicky’s case) can be so powerful and make a situation easier to bear.

It also makes me want to not miss any chance with anyone. Maybe strangers can be the ones who make all the difference.

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2 Comments to “in the quiet.”

  1. I think your last two lines say it all. Actually, this is one of the best blog posts I’ve read. I’m glad you wrote it.

    …and I don’t even know how I ended up on your blog.


  2. I completely understand your feelings about Zack. The letter back from his mom was amazingly thoughtful & shows that there really are good people out there still. She needed to know that a practical stranger was affected by her son & she obviously appreciated your note & your poem. I’d love to see his artwork also.

    You never know who you are affecting & how. Sometimes a stranger isn’t so much a stranger.

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