More details

I had requested the autopsy report and received that in the mail. I wasn't sure if I would read it or not. But, I had to. I had to know.

One thing I've decided about myself - first off, I'm a talker. I can't hold my emotions in and process them. I have to process them by essentially regurgitating my feelings. Emotional vomit. That's basically what it is. I have to throw them all up - and then it's like I can see them. I can touch them. I can examine and analyze them and begin to make sense of them.

So I had to read the autopsy. I needed the details. I needed to put together this picture.

I had hoped it would say he had broken his neck (as much as one can "hope" for that) - and that would confirm what everyone said: that he had passed instantly.

It didn't say that. His injuries were devastating though. And with my background in nursing and my medical knowledge, I felt sure - had he survived the initial impact, he would not have made it to the hospital. He may not have even made it until an ambulance or life flight would have gotten there.

As much as I would like to disclose his injuries - I do not believe that it would be helpful to anyone that might read this. So suffice it to say - his injuries were devastating.

As a mom - while we never, ever want to lose a child - we certainly don't want our children to suffer. And this accident - while I did not witness it - I have imagined it many times. I have imagined the fear he had while losing control of his car. I have imagined the pain and suffering because I can't be sure he passed instantly. And it overwhelms me and causes me anxiety and grief.

I had many questions though about the autopsy, so I scheduled an appointment to meet with the medical examiner.

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I also met with the investigating officer of the accident. Officer Muhl. He met with me and Steve on a Friday afternoon. I knew what I thought had happened - based on friend statements and based on what I understood the day of the accident. But it didn't match up with the police report. So I needed to meet with him to go over details. I needed the information to further the picture of what happened I was trying to put together.

So basically, Tony and his friends in the other car were speeding. Maybe 75 mph (the speed limit was 45). Tony tried to move from the right hand lane, to the left hand lane. Either to pass his friends or something. His friends moved over to block him. They were goofing off. Tony swerved back to the right lane and, basically, just over corrected. He lost control, and slid sideways into a parked truck. He was on asphalt, which, the officer explained, has less friction capacity than concrete. So he was unable to really grip the road to slow. Based on the impact, he hit the truck at about 70 mph. And the officer explained our bodies can really only withstand an impact of about 40 mph. He told me that Tony did not suffer. Skid marks proved this is what happened.

I think Tony would have appreciated the explanation because a lot of math was referenced. It was oddly comforting to me. Like, maybe I could feel Tony smiling that in life he loved math - and in death, math was used to determine what happened.

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Initially I felt kind of mad at his friends. Like, because they were goofing off, and because they moved to block him, he wrecked. Ultimately however, Tony chose to speed. He chose to play games in the car. And ultimately, he paid that price. I feel grief and empathy for his friends and what they witnessed, and what they lost as well. I feel for them - imagining the guilt and emotions they must feel. My anger at their actions serves no purpose. It doesn't change anything that happened.

Anger is just a part of grief though. It doesn't have to make sense. And the best sense I can make of it - whatever sense there is - I feel this way because they are present. They are young men I CAN feel angry towards. It's difficult to direct any anger towards Tony since he's not here. But in reality, HIS choices heavily contributed to the outcome.

And as Steve has pointed out several times, we have played those games in the cars with each other when we were younger. We have done reckless things, immature things, dangerous things. And the only difference? We got lucky. We didn't die.