Shock and Grief

It's not supposed to happen to you.

You hear of the car wrecks and you sympathize with the family involved, but you never expect it to be your family. You know that weather conditions can be bad, but no one you know will wind up being a victim of it. There's that bubble around you, where everyone will be OK, no matter what happens. Then the bubble bursts.

Many of you that read this know that, overnight, Russellville got a dusting of snow and, with temperatures well into the twenties, that there was some ice with it. There wasn't much ice, of course, and when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds around mid-morning, it dried up most of the patches on the roads. Most, but not all.

My Uncle Robert and Aunt Joy, who live behind my parents outside of town, apparently had to go into town for one reason or another, most likely physical therapy as both of them have had numerous surgeries and problems. We may not know why, but we do know that on their way off of Mill Creek, they seemed to hit a patch of black ice.

Another car was coming toward them and saw them hit the ice, then flip over and land in the water, which is an offshoot of the Illinois Bayou. Rescue crews arrived, but the way the car landed and the pressure of the water kept them from breaking the windshield. Neither of them survived the accident, unfortunately.

So, as you might expect, the family is still trying to come to terms with it. Dad, who is now one of two surviving siblings out of six, was out of town. Mom found out when the chaplain and the sheriff arrived at her door. Nathan, my brother who was very fond of both Robert and Joy, called me with the news around 3:30.

Robert and Joy had a daughter, but her whereabouts are unknown right now. People are trying to locate her, so any other details regarding a funeral or related items are up in the air. Mom and Dad seem to be doing OK, but how things will go when the shock of the whole thing wears off is another matter.

As for us, we've not told Benjamin and Sarah. While they knew Robert and Joy, they were not people that, as Meron said, "they will know are gone." If it was just Benjamin, I might try to explain it, if I could. But what do you tell a 2 1/2 year old?

Robert and Joy were wonderful people. We didn't see them as often as we should have, with Thanksgiving being the last time we were around them. At least now they are beyond the physical pain that they had carried throughout their last years and are in the welcome embrace of the One that created them.