A mere moment

That’s seemingly all that separates us from tragedy, life-changing tragedy – a mere moment. A moment of distraction. A moment of indecision. And it doesn’t even have to be our moment – it could be someone else’s.
We’re talking about cars, each one a ton or two of unfeeling steel. When a single car is traveling at, say, a good gallop (about 30 miles per hour), it packs a lethal force.
This we saw in the tragic death of David Sharpe, the Sonoma Valley young man who had returned after serving with the Marines. We don’t know the circumstances, other than that he was driving alone, but it takes only a moment for a car to veer from the roadway to a tree alongside, as Sharpe’s did on Olive Avenue Friday afternoon.
The loss of a grown child is unfathomable to us, and our hearts go out to Sharpe’s mother and stepfather, Caryn Prince and Doug Bates. We feel helpless to comfort them, as they deal with this tragedy. It’s customary to talk about a time of grief, but we wonder if that time ever really ends, or if it’s a heartache to which one must become accustomed. Those of us who are parents may have had glimpses of that heartache in the panic experienced when a child is “lost” around the corner or in the confusion of drop-offs and pick-ups. But we don’t presume to know the depth of grief when that loss is real.
High school physics tells us that if the relative speed doubles – the equivalent of two cars approaching each other – then the energy of impact quadruples. The miracle is that there aren’t more automotive tragedies – that so many people whiz right by each other with so few accidents.
Six Sonoma Valley teens weren’t so lucky last Friday. A collision with another vehicle sent four of the girls into the hospital with serious injuries, where they’ve been through tough surgery and face months of physical therapy. The emotional scars of the trauma, we expect, will last even longer.
A mere moment of thrill.
A mere moment of inattention.
A mere moment of poor judgment.
These are the dangerous moments, the ones we parents worry about so much. Having been that age ourselves, we know that teens feel invincible. We also know they’re not.
Nor are any of us, and events like these remind us just how fragile our lives really are.