Silvia's Faith Journey- Part 6
Hi everyone :) Today is the same as part 5 in regard to why I do not mention the drunk driver’s name. Though this part of my life was challenging, the experience of the sentencing hearing was also what God would use later to begin to break down the walls I had put in my heart against Him. It is always interesting to me to see how God weaves things together, even when it takes years for the next thing to come to fruition.
An arraignment hearing was held shortly after Jared’ death. When asked by the judge how he pled to the charges of drunk driving and manslaughter he pled not guilty to all charges. When I found that out, it hurt. It was obvious that he had killed Jared, so how could he plead not guilty in good conscience? I understood that he was working under the advice of his defense lawyer and that he wanted to be free until the sentencing hearing, but I was still very disillusioned. I wanted him to take ownership of what he had done. I was looking for something that would somehow make him more respectable in my eyes. The dishonesty did nothing to fulfill that desire.
The day of the sentencing hearing was set to occur about six to seven months after Jared’s death, so there was time to prepare. Renee, the prosecuting attorney, had advised me of what the proceedings of the sentencing hearing would be like. She asked me to compile letters on Jared’s behalf to give to the judge beforehand and told me that when I spoke, I needed to ask for the maximum sentence. Ten years. Otherwise, there was less of an impact in the sentencing process. Jared’s mom, dad, ex-wife (who Jared remained good friends with), and I would be given the opportunity to address the judge and drunk driver at the hearing. I was more concerned about being able to say something to the latter, I assumed the evidence and facts were sufficient for the judge.
Weeks in advance, I began composing my statement. I needed it to be impactful because it was my one opportunity to speak on Jared’s behalf to the man who killed him. It felt so important to be able to express what was taken from the world by the decision he made to get in his car and drive drunk that night. My only focus was to tell him who Jared was. I wrote everything down and after endless edits it ended up being several pages long. I needed each word to be written down because I wanted every thought to be heard. I was afraid that I would not be strong enough to get through it all in the moment, but my mom told me she would stand in my place to read the rest of it if I could not finish. I am so thankful that my mom was willing to do such a tough job for me. She was a strong woman.
For weeks I practiced my speech incessantly until I finally reached the point where I could make it to through to the end without hysterically sobbing. It was a draining and exhausting process, but I needed to practice building my strength because I wanted the drunk driver to hear my voice and my words clearly. As with any presentation I had given in my life, I needed feedback. I asked a couple of my good friends at work if they would help, and they agreed. At lunch, we walked outside of our building to a beautiful day, with the sun shining and blue skies. I remember that because the day was so idyllic in contrast to the task that was ahead. My friends sat down on the grassy hill and gave me time as I gathered the courage to speak. I was anxious because I was not sure I would be able to hold it together when I had to give the speech in front of people. I finally stood up and began to speak. At the end, I looked up from my notes and asked, “Is it okay?” Then one of my friends looked at me and said, “Wow. He sounds like Jesus.” When I heard that, I was relieved. The picture of Jared was clear. Even though I was so angry and mistrusting of God, I still knew deep down that to be equated with Jesus was a very good thing.
I did not exaggerate what I wrote, all the words and stories I told of Jared I would stand by today. But what I did not acknowledge at that point, because I did not recognize it myself, was that although Jared was an exceptional person, I let him become an idol. I literally had this moment when we were dating where I recognized that I put Jared on a pedestal; however, in my mind that was fine because I knew he put me on a pedestal as well. As a result, it made me feel as though we were on equal footing somehow. Equally revered and equally worshipped by each other in a way. Although God gives us good things and good people to love, I had let it reach an extreme. He never asked for it, but Jared had taken over the place in my life where Jesus was supposed to be. As difficult and heartbreaking as it was to grieve Jared, the compounded loss of an unrecognized idol made it so much worse. I did not know for years that there was that additional element that was at play.
The time eventually arrived and I flew back to the West Coast for the sentencing hearing. It was a blur. I remember my mom being there and Jared’s mom, dad, ex-wife, and many friends. We all tried to wear something green, Jared’s favorite color, and wore stickers that had Jared’s picture on them. Renee, the attorney, reminded us of the logistics for the day. The drunk driver’s family and friends would speak first, then we would have the opportunity to speak, followed by the delivery of the sentence.
We walked into the courtroom and were corralled into the spectator area that faced the judge. Jared’s family and friends to the left side of the room, the driver’s family and friends to the right side. After everyone was settled, a door on the right side of the room opened and the drunk driver was filed in. His head hung low, and he never looked up as he sat down at the attorney table facing the judge. I felt the heavy weight of the moment that must have been pressing on him. I will never know what was running through his mind, but I can only imagine how scary that must have been to face a prison sentence and to hear the words of those who loved Jared. His head remained down most of the time and he never turned his head back to look at us. We never made eye contact.
People that knew him got up to speak about his character, saying that he was a nice person, a good friend, and that they loved him. I did not doubt that he was all those things to them. I believed that he was likely many good things, but he had made a terrible decision that could not be reversed.
Jared’s mom and dad were the first to speak on our side. I remember how his dad, Al, with his heart of gold, offered forgiveness if the drunk driver was willing to tour schools with him after he got out of prison. His hope was to share what happened, talk about the ramifications of drunk driving, and hopefully deter future losses by having a positive impact on these kids. What he proposed was such a gift. I admired Al for his gentle heart and kindness. I believe that Jared learned so much of how to love others well from his dad. Although I do not believe true forgiveness can be given with conditions, the fact is that what Al offered was far more than what I could offer that day. At the time, I did not have it in my heart to forgive freely or even contingently, it felt like an impossible feat.
When it was my turn to speak, I walked up to the little podium placed behind the railing in the spectator’s area. Amid a stream of tears, I managed to give my speech in its entirety. A lot of the things I conveyed about Jared will remain in that room, but I will share a couple of stories I told to honor Jared once more and so you all know what he was like.
The first story occurred when Jared’s parents had come to visit from Australia. That weekend we stopped by work so Jared could grab something from lab before we all went to lunch. As we exited the building, we saw a beautifully dressed couple standing outside. They looked very out of place in front of our research institute. Most of all, they looked distressed. Jared immediately walked over and asked them what was wrong. They told him that they were supposed be at their friend’s wedding, which started in ten minutes, but realized they may have been dropped off at the wrong place. It was clear what had happened. Our institute had another location, with a spectacular ocean view, that was often used as a venue for weddings and the cab driver had dropped them off at the wrong one. Though that location was only a five-to-ten-minute drive away, there was no way to make it on time for the wedding if they had to walk or wait for another ride.
Before the couple could say another word, Jared gathered them up and hurried them to his car parked nearby. There was no room for all of us to go, so he left his parents and me behind at the institute until he could come back for us. I will be honest, it was a little awkward as I had just met his parents, but thankfully they were very friendly. It was at that point they told me that they used to refer to him as the white knight when he was growing up. Apparently even at a young age Jared had the habit of helping people in any way possible. It was just how he had always been. When Jared returned, he acted as if nothing happened. He did not ask to be praised; he was just happy that he helped. Later he told me that the couple tried to give him money, but he refused. I always wondered if they remembered his kindness.
The other story is less dramatic but speaks to his nature. I used to live in an apartment where the laundry facility was located on the ground level. To get to there I had to walk down some outdoor stairs located in front of my second-floor apartment. One day I was walking down the stairs with a laundry basket full of clothes that obstructed my view. When I descended the stairs, I heard a crunch. As I moved my laundry aside to see what happened, I was horrified to learn that I had stepped on and crushed a little snail that was on one of the steps. I was so sad when I relayed the story to Jared. For the next couple of days we would travel up and down the stairs and each time I would wince at the little mark that was left behind by the snail. One day soon after, we were going to leave my apartment and I realized that the front door was open and Jared was nowhere to be seen. I called out, “Jared?” and I heard his voice coming from outside. I looked out and asked him what he was doing. He looked up cheerfully, soapy sponge in hand, and told me that he was scrubbing off the snail mark because he knew it made me sad each time I saw it. That was just the kind of thought he put into people.
At the end of the hearing, there was not a dry eye in the room. All our lives had been changed one way or the other. The judge delivered the middle of the road sentence, six years in prison. When they took the driver away in handcuffs, his head hung so very low. It was a horrible moment, and my heart sank deep into my stomach. I looked at the drunk driver’s back and thought to myself with great sorrow, “Everyone has lost in this situation.” That was it. There was no feeling of relief, no vindication, no victory, no satisfaction, but rather a deep sense of loss for everyone that remained. I wished that Jared was still there. I wished that the drunk driver did not have to have his life altered in such a negative way. I wished things were different, but they were not.
When I first walked into the sentencing hearing, I was not sure what to anticipate. How would I react when I finally saw the man who killed Jared in person? Would I be overcome with anger? Would I detour from my speech and begin to scream?
Ultimately none of that happened. I did not feel any hatred in my heart, only a great and overwhelming sadness that so many lives had been ruined, including the driver’s life, but Jared’s most of all. I never understood why I never hated the drunk driver; I just never did. I hated his decision, but not him, even though I thought my life had been destroyed forever.
God would use this sentencing hearing experience and the absence of hatred in my heart to move powerfully in my life many years later.