Neil, my son, was going out with few of the kids from the neighborhood. A normal spring break outing before they were ready to knock their last semester off. We didn’t care about his whereabouts for another 2 days then the news came. My wife was in the kitchen, frying up those chicken drumsticks after a long while since Neil was due home that night. He loved fried chicken, his friends called him Ghetto boy for that. He told me why, but I still don’t get it, but I digress. I could hear the noise the frying was making while my dad was rocking in his chair with two fingers strongly clasping the Marlboro butt. Grey smoke rising up his forehead, he was lost in some thoughts. This was typical of dad, this is how I remember him when I was growing up, he would either be deployed in a mission or he would be sitting home, rocking in his chair with grey smoke rising up his forehead. I thought all dads were like that until I had my son. Suddenly, Sammy and Vito, the kids that went to the spring break outing with my son, showed up. I was adjusting the radio tuner when I saw them. I knew something was wrong but I just kept staring at them. They wouldn’t say anything until the skinny girl opened her mouth and uttered the line that still resonates in between my two ears. “blah blah blah blah…Your son is no longer with us..blah blah blah..” that’s all I can remember. Nothing else mattered anyway.

I later woke up surrounded by my dad and my wife. She was completely white with fear and still was probably the strongest one there. The kids had left by then and she gave me the full story. My son and few of his friends were coming back in two cars that evening. All of a sudden they saw a huge ass pickup slamming head on to my son’s PT cruiser. He was pronounced dead at the scene, his friend sitting in the passenger side sustained major fractures in his ribs and his legs. The friends from the car behind pulled them out and took them to the hospital but of course it was too f***ing late for my son. Neil didn’t even see what hit him. As for the guy in the pickup, he said he f***ing “dozed off.” He was coming back from a long shift and didn’t bother to stop at the Yield sign. He was first charged with vehicular manslaughter but the prosecuters later dropped the criminal charge. I wanted to appeal this but dad wanted to let go and wait for the verdict. His hearing is now postponed to next year and he is out on a bail. I am told the most he will get now is 3 months with probation. My dad still told us, let go..let go for your son’s sake, let go for your sake.

It almost looked like the watch just stopped, or it just slowed down. No, the wall clock agrees with it. My son hung it, it has that picture of hillbilly with moustache in it, the one who got killed racing in whachuma call, NASCAR or Daytona, whatever. He loved racing, I never got it. He would watch it with his grandpa all the time; in one way he was closer to him than to me. Maybe that’s why it was “easier” for dad to let it go. He found a peace with letting go. When I first heard that sun-of-a-gun driver wanted to meet us, to ask for our forgiveness, I couldn’t believe my ears…the nerves. But it was my dad who calmed us down. I told him that he is lucky that I didn’t see him the day I got that bad news. The rich bastard got out of the hospital in 3 days while my son suffocated in his coffin. “Dad, it’s all a ploy to get out of this mess, a ploy possibly suggested by his lawyers” I warned my dad. But dad wouldn’t listen. He has gone around the world, fought wars and seen places. He got out of the army when he was deployed to Saigon when he got the news that his wife died of a minor flu. He blamed himself for years, for not being around. He finally found peace with the whole thing when he “let it go.” That’s what he preaches to everybody since then. But how can I let it go? He still had his two sons then, I lost the only one I had. The worst day for any parent..well you guessed it and I don’t want to say it, it still hurts. Sun-of-a-bitch still has his whole family and his mansion, what do I have? “If he hadn’t felt the remorse from deep within he would have offered you some form of compensation, son. He wants forgiveness and for our sake and Neil’s, we should let it go now. We should learn to forgive and amend with the peace.” Dad said it with the same poise, smoke rising up his forehead.

For the last couple of months my life has been a train wreck. My wife no longer goes outside or talks to anybody and I have taken up some drinking. We have yet to find what is there to live for? Not that we were going to take care of our kid forever, but when somebody that important is plucked away from your hold, you have no reason to clutch that fist again. I lamented each day of my life since my son was born because not a single time I told him how much I love him. I secretly wished he had moved out sooner, but now I know how much I needed him in my life. He wasn’t the brightest kid, not the best of the bunch…but he sure heck was my son. He had that same gusto and same looks, the rascal even had the same laughs. My wife couldn’t tell who is laughing if one of us cracked up. All of that’s gone and we are left alone. Three dead lives taken by one dead soul. But, listening to dad has helped. Once I started “letting it go” I have found a little bit of relief. I can’t say I am a change man and have found God or anything like that, but I guess it has helped….but there is still that feeling in me, a will that wants to destroy everything that killer has. Who knows I might even uncontrollably choke the son-of-a-gun as soon as I see him.

The black MKZ pulls over in my driveway…speaking of the devil. My heart races, my finger trembles. From the bay window I can clearly see somebody opening the car door and a tall man with his cowboy hat emerging outside of the truck. Every pace he takes, my heart pounds like a beating drum. I look around for a glass of water, I see my wife holding the kitchen door and just staring at the window. I am not certain if I want to go inside the kitchen and fetch me a glass, am I suppose to stand up or keep sitting but I think of thousand things all at once. That maybe a different truck, but I see it hitting my boy’s car and throwing him into that huge ass tree. The f***er gets to the door and without even knocking opens it. I guess it is his assistant who opened it and he steps in, with his head hung low. I am speechless and still a nerve wreck. I just kept sitting in my lazyboy and staring at him. He looks at me and my wife and both of us don’t utter a thing, don’t even tell him where to sit. He just pulls up a chair and sits right next to me. He puts his hat down and starts rubbing his knees. What the heck is he doing?? And what am I suppose to say?

“…Well..sir…I guess y’all know why I am here” breaks the silence. My wife starts crying uncontrollably and rushes inside the kitchen. I am frozen like a dead ham. I maintain my gaze and keep staring. “I am here to say sorry and apologize for what happened that day.” I hear my dad cough from his room and my wife has opened the kitchen faucet, possibly to cover her sobbing. “I don’t want to get into details but I want to assure you that I did everything I could in my power to save the boy.”

“Why the F*** is he dead then?” I wanted to say, but nothing comes out of my mouth. “I was injured also but the first thing I asked was if everybody is OK in that car.” My heart keeps pounding but I think I can utter few words now. I chose not too. I try hard to not flow with my emotions which could lead to either me crying frantically or choking the bastard to death. I must let go…I must let go. “The car came from nowhere and I rammed on my breaks but it was too late. I hit him head-on. Now sir, ya might have heard the rumor that I might have been under the influence of alcohol at that time, but I want to assure you that was not the case. I had a glass that day sure, but it was hours before my drive. I was a little tired but I sure heck know what I was doing. You might have heard they registered practically nothing on my breathalyzer.” Nobody had told me anything about the alcohol and breathalyzer, I just assume it wasn’t involved.

“Ever since that day, I have resorted to Jesus Christ my savior to forgive me sir, even though I had done nothing wrong. I have been going to the church regularly now and I hope ya all will find in your heart to forgive this soul.”

I feel like I am reliving the experience all over again, this time with me in the passenger seat next to my son. Do I believe this guy about alcohol? Well if the test didn’t catch anything then he might be right. What do I do now? Can I let go? Can I really let go? It is much easier said than done. It’s easy to forgive if you were somebody else..like my dad..but when it comes to you and your child it is a heck lot harder. I keep staring at the guy and his sorry face. Did he come for apologies or to make his case stronger? He sure seems like he is sorry, he sure seems….BANG!!! A loud noise rattles me. The guy drops right in front of me, his assistant rushes to pick him up. I spring out of my chair, what the f*** happened? I looked back, my wife has rushed out of the kitchen and is staring at my dad’s room. I turn around and see that my dad is holding his vintage revlover. I could swear I heard him faintly say, "U gotta let it go." The grey smoke was coming out of the barrel and going up to his old wrinkled forehead.

THE END