The Uncomfortable Truths We don’t Want to Talk About

I recently started therapy and yesterday I had my second session. My therapist was asking me questions about the 4-wheeler accident that killed my friend. I mentioned that my sister and I were on the ATV with our friend who was driving. My friend drove backwards down a small dip in the field and I asked her to stop because it scared me. She did it again and the second time it was more fun so I didn’t say anything. When she started to turn the ATV around to do it again it flipped.

My therapist brought this up because I mentioned that at times I’ve felt like the accident was my fault because I didn’t try harder to stop my friend. My therapist acknowledged that, while it was possible that my friend didn’t hear me, it is also possible that she ignored me. That she chose to continue her drive instead of listening to my fear.

I was furious when she first mentioned this. How dare she blame my friend for the accident?! But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. We were 10 years old and all of our time spent together revolved around playing games and having fun. It is entirely possible that a 10 year old showing off her ATV driving skills to her friends ignored one when she expressed fear. It’s difficult for me to accept this possibility but I do have to acknowledge it.

When someone we care about dies people are quick to point out their best attributes. She was a wonderful mother. He was always generous. But people aren’t perfect. Children certainly aren’t perfect. Children throw tantrums and tell their parents they hate them. They lie about who broke the glass shattered all over the floor. They leave chores until the last minute and are merciless when the play fight gets a little too real. They laugh even though their friend has been embarrassed or prank call the classmate no one liked.

After 16 years I remember my friend as a wonderful person, full of life. She loved her family and was insanely close to her cousins. She had big plans for the future and loved horses and her dog (Blue and then Honey when Blue died). She was generous, cutting off her beautiful long hair and donating it. In my memory she was perfect; she even had the cherubic cheeks and endearing freckles.

Where does that leave me in my memories of my friend? It doesn’t matter because she was my best friend and I love her. Did she ignore me and inadvertently cause the accident that took her life? Maybe but I can’t hold that against her. If she had survived to my age she would have made many more, perhaps worse mistakes. I’ve certainly made my share of mistakes, including ignoring friends at times.

It is important to remember that those we’ve lost were only human. It is more important to remember that we love them.