The descriptions of Matt's car are much worse than the pictures. I'm sure it's worse in person but the pictures aren't half as bad as I thought they would be. I guess they wanted to make it sound really bad considering they didn't know how I would react and wouldn't want me to be upset. That's understandable. Tom looked at them first. There are only two pictures I won't let others see due to blood. I'm going to put the pictures on a separate page (link at the top) so that if you're not comfortable viewing them, you won't find them here. The front of the car is mangled. The windshield is out. The roof is peeled back. The air bag deployed. Most of the obvious blood is on the airbag (again, not posting pictures of that). There's also blood on the dash and in the center console. There was nothing there to block the impact because the farm equipment came through the windshield above the steering wheel. One of the officers told me if he had been sitting up higher, he would have survived.
I have been going through some of the stuff in the office. I rarely ever went into that room; it was basically all Matt's stuff. So I think that will be the most difficult room to pack considering I have no idea what half of the stuff even is (computer parts, etc.). It will probably take the longest. But once I get the desk cleared out then hopefully it goes a little faster from there. The closets will be the next most time-consuming. I started working on the worst one; basically our junk closet!
I find myself wondering what the tractor driver is feeling. Sometimes I hope that he has trouble sleeping at night knowing that his careless, negligent, irresponsible decision to drive a tractor 25mph on a 70mph highway cost a young family their father; a wife her husband. It is so hateful for me to think that but I can't help it sometimes. I really don't even think like that often; only on occasion. I have to remind myself what's done is done and whatever he thinks has nothing to do with us. It could have been anyone. But it was Matt.
I did dream about Matt last night. He was sending me messages; communicating via drawings. He drew pictures of a person crying; he was asking me if I cried a lot. As if he wasn't there watching me cry that night. It was a really strange dream. There was more to it but I can't remember the rest.
I don't regret seeing those pictures at all. I'm glad I did. I kind of wrote the title to this post on impulse. I'm not trying to imply that a wife who doesn't wish to see pictures of the vehicle in which her husband sustained fatal injuries is weak.
I hope Matt doesn't mind that I'm sharing songs he wrote in high school. But here are a few lyrics from a song written on February 25, 1999.
God's way of making us repay Jesus was by letting us kill ourselves with our sins. With every new sin we commit, that sin is directed upon Jesus. We sin so much Jesus is overloaded & the rest is put on us, as it should be.