Chris Williams - Let It Go: A True Story of Tragedy and Forgiveness

Let It Go

A True Story of Tragedy and Forgiveness

Chris Williams

2012 Christopher Stuart Williams.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the publisher, Shadow Mountain . The views expressed herein are the responsibility of the author and do not necessarily represent the position of Shadow Mountain.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Williams, Chris (Chris Stuart), author.

Let it go / Chris Williams.

pages cm

Summary: When his wife and two of his children were killed in a drunk-driving accident, Chris Williams made the most important decision of his lifeProvided by publisher.

ISBN 9781609072308

1. Williams, Chris (Chris Stuart) 2. MormonsBiography. 3. BereavementReligious aspectsThe Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I. Title.

BX8695.W5445A3 2012

248.866dc232012013801

Printed in the United States of America Publishers Printing

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

To Michelle, Benjamin, and Anna Williams

The Williams family, Christmas Eve 2006

Front (left to right): Anna, Michelle, Chris, Sam

Back: Ben, Michael

Table of Contents

Introduction

Introduction

I am not that smart or emotionally strong, I said as I moved closer to emphasize that point. I couldnt have done it on my own. I paused, trying to restrain my emotions as I struggled to revisit that tragic night when the car I was driving was hit by a drunk teenage driver, killing my wife, who was five months pregnant, and two of our four children.

Throughout my lunch with this young couple, Tyler and Emily, we conversed as if we had known one another for years, with each of us sharing intimate details of the trials we were enduring. Our differing journeys had led us to this sharing of experiences of grief and self-reflection, yet this was the first time we had ever met. They had recently lost a child in a terrible accident and were struggling to forgive themselves and those who were involved. A mutual friend had suggested that it might be helpful if we met, if for no other reason than for them to know they werent alone on their grief-filled journey.

As we visited, we shared our thoughts about the horrible feelings a tragedy or trial can produce in our lives and about the perceived loss of control over our circumstances. We pondered together each of our prior expectations for the future, and how everything now was so very different, and not by our choice. We commiserated about how the only thing that is truly oursour willfelt as if it too was being compromised or taken from us in some way.

Tyler had been very direct. He wanted to know how I had forgiven the driver immediately after the crash, asking me how I was able tokeep moving forward rather than go through months or years of anguish struggling to let it go? They both spoke of being emotionally and physically drained as a result of their tragedy. They were tired of feeling stuck and earnestly wanted to find peace.

I am a quick study when properly motivated, I said. But, unfortunately, Ive found that whatever knowledge I thought I had gained in those cram sessions usually didnt stick as well as something that was painfully pressed into my soul over a longer period of time.

To make matters worse, I continued, I am not a very patient person. I want answers and a resolution to my struggles before Im prepared to comprehend the answer or fully appreciate the relief. Tyler nodded his head in acknowledgement, while Emily shared similar experiences of struggling with patience and perseverance, of desperately awaiting a release from the trial they were enduring.

As the conversation progressed, I became increasingly concerned that my attempts to provide the answers and comfort they sought were falling short. My suspicion was confirmed when, after talking together for almost an hour, Tyler interrupted my explanation of what I had gained from the forgiveness by saying, I can see how its possible to forgive and heal, and even why its necessary to do soI get thatbut I still dont understand how you were able to let it go and move forward so immediately, right after the crash. He didnt want textbook admonitions regarding the virtues of forgiveness, or a reminder that it was ultimately the right thing to do for him or his wife or anyone else who has been hurt. He was willing to be completely open and wanted me to do the same. He hoped to peer deeper into my soul to tap the strength he thought I had foundhe wanted a much more personal and unfiltered view into my life than I had yet been willing to provide. He wanted to pierce the public faade we all put up when we interact with one another and, by so doing, see me as I really was.

I suddenly felt very vulnerable and much more exposed in their presence. I knew I had to go back to that horrible, excruciating moment in the car just prior to the decision and commitment I made to let it go. I didnt know where to start. I struggled to preface that terrible refining experience by reviewing my life prior to the crash. I expressed my hopes that I had tried to live so that I could be thought of and described as one who tried to cultivate a peaceable walk among the children of men in his life, one who tried to do unto others as I would have them do to me. As I continued, images of the crash began to flash in my mind, and I was now acutely aware and careful of what I was saying, as if I were on trial, justifying my life before them. My explanations started sounding hollow as I began, in my minds eye, to envision the exterior of our mangled car that had just been hit, and what I must have looked like after the impactseated inside the car, in shock and desperately trying to process what was happening.

Chris at the 20th East underpass, February 2008

My lifes justification was now sounding increasingly desperate. I stopped speaking. I could now clearly see myself seated in the car after the impact, so helpless, so very helpless. I couldnt speak as the flood of emotions choked my ability to continue. My eyes were directed at the table between us, but I was unable to see anything but the image of a father whose life had just been shattered. Slowly I looked up. Tyler was leaning forward, his gaze fixed on my eyes, and Emily had begun to weep. I looked directly into his eyes so he could somehow see the scene I was observing in my mind, and I shared the first thing they needed to know about my reactions at the crash site: I am nothing.

Notes

1. Names of this couple have been changed.

O Be Wise

I wish there were a way to convey in words the annoying sound my old alarm clock made. I spent several days piecing together consonants and vowels to represent the most horrid, grating, angry electronic buzzing sound possible, but everything I wrote ended up looking like some kind of inappropriate word. I would set the alarm to sound promptly at 6:00 a.m., retiring to bed with every intention of rising in the morning alert and full of energy, only to be jolted awake by that hideous noise. Irritated by the buzzing sound, I smacked at the alarm until the noise stopped. Maybe I enjoyed that small victory at the start of each day, exerting control over my little world and, as a reward, receiving another five minutes of sleep. It was short-lived, however. After the five minutes passed, the alarm sounded again, the snooze button was smacked, and I was still not terribly awake or full of energy.