Sister #1 and her husband celebrated three additions to their home this year: their third beautiful child, Niece #4; a new 2nd floor bedroom, built to accommodate Niece #4; and a second full bathroom, built to accommodate a household with 4 females. On a whim, I visited their home last Friday night to see the new bedroom and bathroom, but mostly to see my nieces. As my visit came to an end, Sister #1 walked me down to my car. A minute later, Niece #1 came outdoors with a concerned look on her face as she told us that her sister, Niece #2, was getting scared because their mother had disappeared. Sister #1 assured Niece #1 that everything was OK, we said goodnight, and they retreated into their home as I drove away. In retrospect, I figured that, most likely, Niece #1 was the one who was scared because although she likes to look after her sisters, she was worried that no one was looking after her.
While visiting with my sister, we briefly discussed the local news, which, for most of my faithful readers, became national news last week: the disappearance and murder of University of Vermont senior, Michelle Gardner-Quinn.
After saying goodnight to her parents, who were visiting for Family Weekend, Michelle ventured downtown to meet up with her friends. When she couldn’t find her friends, and her cell phone died, she borrowed the phone of a considerate stranger. After failing to connect with her friends, the stranger was kind enough to walk her home. The video camera of a jewelry store captured footage of Michelle and her good-deed acquaintance walking up our city’s hill to her home. Nearly one week later, her body was discovered near a gorge 20 miles away.
As only my most loyal readers will note, my hometown has not been without crime, as evidenced by the Great Inga Beep the Jeep Burglary; however, in the time that I’ve lived here, I’ve honestly never felt anything other than a refreshing belief that this place is where I needed to be if ever I wanted a lost wallet returned to me or if ever I wanted to be the “victim” of a random act of kindness. And after reading and listening to every news report I could find, it became increasingly clear that this sense of security had been shared by most, if not all the residents of our small community. So as law officials do their best to put together the pieces of this tragic puzzle (having arrested the stranger on unrelated charges), it’s not without reason to say that the residents of our Queen City are doing their best to put together the pieces of their crumbled sense of security.
Considering my home’s close proximity to the events of this crime, I’m sure it’s no surprise when I say that my way of coping with this tragedy has been to reflect on my own life. Although my frustration with professional athletes who use the phrase “this puts things into perspective” surfaced yet again last week at the news of a professional baseball player’s death, I admit that I’m guilty of feeling these exact same thoughts regarding Michelle’s death; something like this really does help you remember what in your life should truly be valued, and what’s extraneous.
At the top of the list of values for me, as always, are my loved ones. And just as I instinctively drive slower and much more defensively when my nieces are in the car, I feel the need to protect them from the evil in this world. I want to take Niece #1’s hand and lead her back into her home and tell her that everything will be OK; she has her parents, and her sisters, and her uncle, and that’s all she needs. But as hard as it is to admit, that’s not what she needs. As her loved ones, we owe it to her to help mold her into someone capable of conquering the world; someone capable of making the right choices; someone capable of living a rewarding life. We can’t shelter my nieces forever because in the end, they will need to deal with the reality that I’m dealing with today:
That as much as I want to, I can’t rewind life like I can rewind the jewelry store camera tape. I can’t walk Michelle and the stranger back down the hill until they disappear out of the camera’s view. I can’t walk them back to the bar and make different decisions for Michelle. I can’t walk Michelle back up the hill to her loving parents. I can’t walk Michelle back into their outstretched arms so that she can hug them goodbye once again and know that everything will be OK.
Benchly'sword 