A Short Note to the Other Driver

25 years later

I noticed the date in the church bulletin today: March 2, 2025. I suddenly realized it had been twenty-five years since the car accident that changed our lives forever. Ten years ago, I wrote my second letter to the driver of the red pickup truck that ran a red light on Paoli Pike.

The intervening ten years have brought us many more changes, including Ron’s passing on July 13, 2019. Today, I write my final note.

Dear driver of the red pick-up truck,

This will be my last letter to you. I write it, not because you need to hear my words or accept my forgiveness, but because I need to take a moment to reflect on the events of March 2. If I were to divide my life into two books—Before and After— the car accident that injured my husband would be the spine that binds them together.

Ten years ago, I told you that my children and I had forgiven you. It was a struggle, because Ron’s injuries resulted in nineteen long years of physical and mental pain, years I was denied a partner to help me with the challenges of life, and my children were left with a father unable to participate fully in their lives. The older two children have gone onto their own lives; they are responsible, moral adults who have faced their own challenges and, I think, were made stronger by the two decades of their dad’s illnesses. Their hearts are tender towards the hurting of others.

It is just Allen and I alone in the little brick house now. We have developed a quiet life for two. For the most part, we are content. Allen’s status as an autistic adult adds some challenges—and some laughter—to our lives. I retired from thirty years of teaching last June, and bid my father a final farewell on June 6.

I miss Ron. I miss him every day, but some days I miss him more than others. It seems a dichotomy, then, to claim that I am happy and content. But I know that Ron resides in Heaven and waits for me there. As we approach the season of Lent, I think of forgiveness. Jesus forgave us our sins. My kids and I forgave you for your thoughtless—but unintentional—actions. There are blessings to be had in forgiveness and I want to share three with you.

Blessed is the one
whose transgressions are forgiven,
whose sins are covered.
² Blessed is the one
whose sin the Lord does not count against them
and in whose spirit is no deceit.

Psalm 32: 1-2

1. We are forgiven both our transgressions—acts which are against the law—and our sins—a falling short of what we should do. I am forgiven the times I was impatient with Ron, the times I did not help a neighbor, or the times I spoke harshly to my son..

2. I have been given a clean spirit, washed pure. I may recall with sorrow the things I have done, but they do not mark me.

3. I have learned a deeper love than I once had, a love that looks on others with not only sympathy, but a desire to impact their lives and their hearts. I am more aware than ever of God’s abiding love for me.

So, other driver, I doubt you will read this, but blessings have come from what was a tragedy. Forgiveness has brought us closer to God.

I pray you, too, will feel blessed.

Linda

Time has not dulled the events that followed the car accident. I remember each surgery, each illness, each hospitalization. They were pivotal to my life and to my ministry. What events do you recall with clarity? How have those events impacted your life?