To Whom it may Concern

This weeks installment is not a collection of random thoughts.

To whom it may concern,

You killed my uncle.

Whether through inattentive, careless driving or criminal negligence, you killed him. I did not rush to judgment the day of the accident or in the weeks and months that followed. That is until I received word on Christmas Day that the State Patrol determined you ran the red light and broadsided my uncle. The fact that the State Patrol is turning over their findings to the Carver County Attorney’s Office for possible criminal charges gave me very little solace. You killed my uncle. Blood cries out for blood.

Anger. Hatred. Disgust. These emotions came crashing down upon me like an avalanche. Perhaps I have been withholding the anger component of my grief inside. My sister said, “It changes nothing.” Maybe for her, but now, now I had someone to blame for taking Donnie away from this world. You killed my uncle. Blood cries out for blood.

My uncle Donald “Donnie” Moonen was an inspiration to me and others. He always had an encouraging  word to say and a funny story to tell. Uncle Donnie was not only a husband, father and grandfather; he was the Patriarch of the Moonen Clan. He served our nation’s military and locally as a volunteer firefighter. He volunteered his time for charity organizations. He taught my cousins and me how to play cribbage and poker. He made the best-grilled pork loin it has ever been my pleasure to enjoy. Rarely was he angry and even then, never more than a moment. He was a Paragon of what it means to be a loving and caring human being. In many ways, I wish I could be more like him. I wish I were going to see him this weekend at the Moonen Clan Christmas, but I am not, you killed him. Blood cries out for blood.

My Insomnia kicked into high gear and gave me plenty of time to think. I learned who you are, but I do not know much about you. Honestly, I am not sure I care. I really did not appreciate your social networking post expressing concern over totaling your truck. Fuck you; it is a replaceable material possession. You killed my uncle. Blood cries out for blood.

It was this morning, when I could take no more of the tumultuous emotions simmering within me, that I spoke once again with my best friend Kristy. She had already gotten me through the rough patch on Christmas day, but this morning was different. I do not know how she does it, but her words eased my anger. She quieted my mind in a way I did not think possible. It was then that I heard what my Moonen blood truly cries out for and perhaps it is Donnie’s final life lesson to me: Forgiveness.

You are someone’s brother, son, and grandson. For the remainder of your life you will have to live with the knowledge of what you have done. I do not envy you, for unless you are a sociopath, the guilt must be gnawing at your soul. And for that, not only do you have my forgiveness, but also my sympathy. You are young; I hope you learn from this experience how precious life truly is. If you go on to become half the man Uncle Donnie was you should consider yourself lucky.

Fellow traveler on the planet earth
Joshua “Foodie” Moonen
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