Saturday, June 18, 2011
The Ripples of Loss
Last summer a beautiful, young mother was killed while road biking. The spot where she was hit is located 2 blocks from where I swim in the early dawn hours. And I've biked that length of road many times.
I haven't biked it since.
She was killed in those AM hours. I drove past the spot roughly 10 minutes before it happened, which means I passed her - without any knowledge - as she biked towards the final minutes of her life.
Morbid, I know.
I found out about the crash 2 hours later when my brother frantically called me at home. The story was already breaking on the morning commute and he was worried the un-named road biker was me.
Police reports say she was doing everything right. She was biking with friends and had her helmet on correctly. The driver crashed into the middle of the group - swerving to miss hitting a girl coming the opposite way who was answering a text and had veered too far into the other lane.
She left behind 2 baby girls - one 4 months old, the other 3.
I think about her every time I get on my bike.
Every time - like this morning as I crept quietly through my house, clipless shoes in one hand and helmet in the other, careful not to rouse my babies upstairs - a brief thought hits if I'm coming back. If maybe this is my last moment with my children.
I say a lot more prayers on my bike than I ever have before.
And I didn't even know her.
Life isn't meant to be lived in fear. But every so often you start to wonder if events around you are warning calls as opposed to random, horrific accidents.
She haunts me.