In the last moments of my 17-year-old daughter’s life, I sat beside her on Highway 62 in San Bernardino County, holding her hand.
It is a comfort to me, at least, that I could be next to my beloved, artistic high school junior, as a paramedic performed CPR. My 14-year-old son Hart — the family comedian — was just a few yards away fighting for his life as well, while I helplessly looked on.
Just a few moments prior, my teenage children had been full of life and promise, surreptitiously texting each other romantic advice in the back seat. My wife, kids and I had been on our way to a jubilant vacation in Joshua Tree National Park, just a few hours from our home. Our two children had always been close.
But in an instant our family was shattered. The driver who struck our car near Morongo Valley was traveling 90 miles per hour, which was 40 miles per hour above the speed limit. Neither Ruby or Hart — who, sitting in the backseat, absorbed the magnitude of the blow — survived.
It’s hard to put into words what it’s like to experience the loss of your children. It robs you of even the will to live.