The sentencing

So, yesterday I went to the county jail to hear the sentencing of Stephane Rodrigues, the man who caused the accident that Matt ran into. Of the twelve of us that came, only four were allowed to speak. So Matt's parents, one of his brothers (the other was at debate camp), and myself made statements to the court. Matt's Mom talked a little about Matt, a little about how this affected her, and a lot about wanting to stop drag racing. Matt's Dad talked about Matt, about how he has reacted to Matt's loss, and that he wanted Mr. Rodrigues to do community service and speak out against drag racing. Matt's brother focused on how the crime affected the world. Here's what I had to say:

The guidelines I was given about this statement were that I should tell the court how this crime has impacted me, and what I think should be done about it. I can only approximate how this crime has affected me, because for some losses, there are no words - just pain.

On March 7th, at eleven o'clock in the morning, I held the hand of my soul-mate, Matthew Godwin, as he passed on to whatever lies beyond this life. It was the end of the worst two days I have ever been through. One should never, ever have to tell their unconscious fiancé that it is o-kay to die if you can't heal yourself, that it's o-kay to dissolve our promise to die together, and that, when it's my turn to die, after all he's put me through, Matt better be there to show me around.

While for Matt's parents and my parents, the events of March 6th and 7th are a blur, I remember them in vivid detail. From being woken up by a housemate because there's a message on our phone about Matt, to the long drive to the hospital, to seeing him, so uncharacteristically small and still underneath those tubes and machines. I remember the face of the doctor that came down to tell me that they had take out the dominant personality bearing portion of Matt's brain in order to try and save his life. I remember screaming and having to be held down because I knew in my heart of hearts that I wasn't getting Matthew back. That, potentially, if anything remained of the Matt I knew, he wouldn't feel the same way about me anymore. I get a cold feeling in my stomach when I think about it.

I sat by Matt's side for most of the time he was in intensive care. I prayed, but I knew I wasn't going to get a miracle. I remember every second after they pulled the plug on Matt, once he was declared totally brain dead. Every second of hoping for a sign of life, with the knowledge that it wasn't going to come. These were my last moments with my beloved. These are the moments that frequently haunt my waking thoughts.

For weeks afterward, I would catch whiffs of the hospital smell that permeated Matt's room, a smell of blood, snot, Matt, disinfectant, platelets, plastics, and sickness. I was unable to go to work for a month afterwards. I managed to get through finals week, which was two weeks after Matt died, and graduate, but I couldn't tell you what I memorized for those tests in any detail. When I finally did get back to work, I couldn't work more than ten hours in a week. I couldn't focus. I'm still easily distracted.

I feel like I've had an essential piece of me ripped away. Matt was everything to me. He was the kindest, most giving person I have ever met. I admired him as much as I loved him. He treated everyone like they were a human being, and not just some nameless face that passed him by. He is one of the few people I have met who, instead of just giving money to the homeless, would sit and talk with them for hours. In fact, he once said that he never met a person he didn't genuinely care about. I believe it. One of the things Matt liked about the motorcycle was that, if he was ever in an accident, he was less likely to harm the other person involved.

I didn't believe in love at first sight or fate until I met Matt. We shared something that went beyond lust, beyond the flowers and paper hearts, beyond even the kind of love that comes with time. Matt and I had a deep spiritual connection from the moment we met. Within four hours of meeting each other for the first time, at least one person asked if we were dating. We weren't that evening, but we were dating three days later. Somehow in three years and ten months we managed to share what felt like a lifetime of love. And to tell you the truth, it wasn't enough. I found out, just after Matthew's memorial, that he was finally going make our engagement official - he ordered a ring for me, the very one I'm wearing today, that had the pictographs we used instead of our names when we wrote to each other.

Every morning I wake up alone is a bad morning. I keep hoping that this whole thing is a nightmare. I used to wonder what good thing I did to get a reward like Matt. Now I wonder what I did to be punished so harshly. I'm lost, and without Matt I don't know what I want anymore.

I guess the last question to be answered is, "What do I think should be done about this crime, and why?" I think that Mr. Rodrigues should have to put back into the world a little bit of what was taken out of it. I think that he should have to do community service in addition to jail time. I'm not asking that Mr. Rodrigues replace all the hours Matt would have given in his lifetime, had he lived. Matt gave more of himself than was probably good for his stress level - Matt rarely said no when a friend needed help, and he considered anyone he had a good conversation with a friend. I am asking that Mr. Rodrigues do at least five hours a week of community service for each week he is on probation.

None of this is going to bring Matt back or make everything o-kay. I understand that. I would just feel better to know that some good is coming out of this tragedy.

The judge hardly glanced at the other statements that were submitted in writing. However, he was moved by Matt's Dad's and my statements.

Mr. Rodrigues was asked if he had anything to say. His lawyer said that he had prepared a statement. The lawyer tries to hand Mr. Rodrigues a piece a paper, but Mr. Rodrigues ignores it, asks the judge if he can address the family, and turns to us. He apologized from the heart, and without a script. Throughout our statements, he cried. I think that he was really sorry. I can tell the difference, mostly, between sincere feeling and acting. This wasn't a put-on. I think he really understands what was lost.

The judge then made a statement to us, which, while I know he was trying to be helpful, gave us a lot less credit than we deserve. He told us what we already knew - that we weren't going to get final closure at this hearing. He also said that we can't count on Mr. Rodrigues to speak out against racing, and so, he wouldn't sentence him to community service. He also said that if we want anything good to come out of this, we had to do it ourselves.

While well-meaning, I found the judges' comments a little condescending. I get the feeling that they were directed more at Matt's parent's than myself, because I didn't ask that Mr. Rodrigues go out into the community and rally against street racing. I mean, I understand what the judge meant by not being able to trust him - he may seem remorseful now, but what about after jail? Will he still have enough humanity to do so? Moreover, does it have any meaning if Mr. Rodrigues is speaking out because he has to? However, I still felt unheard. I wanted him to do general community service, as a way to reacquaint himself with his own humanity after he gets out of prison. However, not being heard is my fault, as I didn't specify that - I wasn't clear that my idea of community service, and what Matt's parents wanted, were different. Also, the judge has no clue that those of us left behind are trying to make good come out of this.

I'm being defensive. While it was nice that the judge cared enough to say anything, I feel like, whether we spoke or not, the sentence was already fixed. He wasn't going to tack anything on to it that wasn't already agreed upon long before we got there.

Mr. Rodrigues was sentenced to the maximum amount of time you can give a first-time offender - one year of county jail with one year suspended pending five years of probation. If violates probation, he can serve up to six years: one for the suspended year, and five for the years of probation. All jail time has to be served in jail - he can't get out on a work program.

I have to say, despite not expecting any sort of closure, I did get something out of all of this. I know that, despite how he was described to me, that Stephane Rodrigues is a human being - a human being who recognizes what his actions caused, and who is remorseful for what he has done. This makes me feel better. I think I have gotten a little bit of closure, even if it's just the about the criminal part of this ordeal.