A Letter To Joseph

The tranquility of the evening was disrupted by the ringing of the phone.

- Ann Darwicki

A frantic voice on the other line belonged to my nephew: “Aunt Ann, I did not mean to call you; I meant to call my dad. My cousin just got hit by a car.”

The nurse in me immediately began asking questions: “Were you with him?” “Is he ok?” “Are you okay?”

His reply, “They are still working on him,” silences me, and I feel my chest tighten. So many questions are swirling around in my head, but I understand that he needs to make the phone call he intended to make. We hung up, and I began to quietly pray. An hour later I heard that Joseph did not survive. He was the victim of a drunk driver.

A 17 year old’s innocent walk to the store to get ice cream and a soda ending in tragedy. Killed by the very thing he so desperately wanted to become—a Marine. It made me reflect on the preciousness of every moment of our life: