My son Kris’ 27th birthday is today, but he is not here to celebrate it.
Before the crash that took his life, I never thought about this possibility — about just how fragile life is, and how much I used to take it for granted. Now I know better, and I hope I live better because of that knowledge.
Was Kris’ death in some part meant to teach me this lesson? Why am I here and he is not? Aren’t children supposed to outlast their parents? And yet, there are so many parents who outlive their children. Children die as babies, toddlers, and teens — any age. My grandmother lost a son in World War II and another in a car crash. How did she find peace?
In the early evening of Sept. 4, 2004, Michael T. Miranda, driving with a blood alcohol level of 0.217, made a left turn directly in front of Kris’ motorcycle. He died a short time later. Today, on his birthday, I need to share what we experienced in hopes of preventing this tragedy from happening to other families — of both victims and offenders.
I remember the day he was born, at St. Joseph Hospital. The pure joy of having this beautiful baby placed in my arms could not be equaled.
I remember walking him in his stroller, riding with him in his seat on the back of my bike, feeling his exuberance when he rode down the sidewalk on his Big Wheel.
He grew up with friends, school, baseball, Boy Scouts, soccer, basketball, acting classes, inline skating and ice hockey. He made us crazy through his late teens, happy when he graduated from high school and entered community college, and so full of pride when he completed basic training and became an Airman 1st Class with the U.S. Air Force.
We shared his excitement about being stationed at Buckley Air Force Base here in Colorado, and we prayed for his safety during his deployment in Iraq. When he returned home safely in May 2004 as a Senior Airman, there were no words to express our relief.
During the next three months, he shared laughter and stories with us and the rest of his family and friends.
Then, tragedy struck. Kris met with an unexpected end to his life. For those of us left behind, it was the beginning of a nightmare. We can ask, “Why?” We can ask God, we can ask priests and ministers, we can ask friends and relatives, but there is no answer.
There is not a day that goes by without our thinking about, talking about, or sharing stories about Kris. We continue to feel the pain and search for peace, and we are grateful for those moments when we find such peace.
The family of Michael Miranda is also experiencing grief. As he drank alcohol that day, he probably was not thinking about the dire consequences of his actions. When he got into his car, turned the key and began driving down the street, he did not think that in the next few minutes he would take away a life and bring such deep sadness to so many people. He could not have imagined that he would be sentenced to eight years in prison followed by five years of mandatory parole, and face the possibility of losing his license to practice law. He did not consider that he would miss out on his own children’s lives for so many years.
Here’s a warning: If you want to drive after drinking, stop. You may think, “It’s just a couple of drinks. It won’t hurt anyone.” That thinking is so wrong! You may lose your life. You may be the one sitting in a prison cell. You may kill someone else.
And what a tragedy that creates for many, many others. The “ripple effect” of driving drunk and causing a crash that injures someone or takes a life has no end.
All I can do is continue sharing our family’s story and hope that someone will read it, think, and act appropriately.
You are not being asked not to consume alcohol — just not to drive after drinking. So many lives are at stake, and yours is one of them.
Remember Kris and all victims and offenders in drunk driving cases today, and don’t be the cause of another tragedy.
