Dear Matthew

Dear Matthew

This letter remains unseen by the driver whom I will never fully name. I don't believe that public shaming is the way forward.   

Since 2020 I have explored Restorative Justice more than once, but for today there are seemingly too many steps to go ahead.  

Restorative Justice to me means sitting across the table and reading this letter aloud. 

 For today, I continue to live with this, 'somewhere out in the world there is a young man who could be my son.  I've never met him, but he was the first to see Mark's dead body.'

What is justice??  How does one navigate betrayal by systems that don't do their part to make another accountable?  For example, when a Press Release contains more than one error and Statutes expire so that there is no record of negligence that resulted in the death of another? 

Once again, I release all involved.  That's how this dance goes.... 

January 18, 2019

 

Dear Matthew,

On Monday I received the Engineering report and reconstruction of the collision between you and my husband Mark.  On Tuesday January 15th, the 4^th anniversary of Mark’s death, I sat with a trauma counselor to debrief it.  Finally, Mark is honoured.  The truth has set me free.  

Today I set you free.  The space that you have occupied will now be taken up by love.  Mark’s love. 

Today I will no longer travel down the road of revenge. I will not continue to slowly die inside because of my desire for you to feel my pain.  The pain of shattered dreams, widowhood and, even greater, the pain of watching my son without his dad.  Having lost his own father at age 7, Mark set an intentional goal for his son to know him.  That is how he lived his life.  Invested in us. 

I have wrestled with, ‘what will it take’ to make my pain go away? How many tickets? Jail time? A scar on your soul that won’t heal? Today I realized that you can’t possibly feel our pain.  You didn’t have the privilege of being loved by or loving Mark. 

After Mark was killed, I found it hard to sit still.  Perhaps you saw me running through the neighbourhood in Tall Timbers.  While running by your cul-de-sac I sensed the Spirit of Love whom I know as God saying, ‘He is my son even if he doesn’t know it’.   I wrestled with this for a long time; I didn’t want you in the same group as me.  But it’s true.  We share this common thread of being human and trying to find our way through this thing called life.  God also gave me a tender heart towards you, knowing that you were a young man who could have been my son.

Today I release you into the hands of the Spirit of Truth, the Spirit of Love, whom I know as God.  I can’t imagine the pain that you’ve experienced.  Perhaps you’ve buried it. If that’s true, I hope you find help and healing and whatever you need to set yourself free. 

In the trauma unit, after I identified Mark’s body, I experienced what I could only call “God” using me to get a message to you.  If I recall correctly, I asked this message to be relayed, ‘we won’t blame you for the rest of your life. Mark wouldn’t want that’.  I experienced this as a message of forgiveness, of setting you free. More importantly, of setting myself free.  I have had to wrestle it out with God, especially since the RCMP seemed to magically erase any sense of negligence on your part.  Once again, I set you free despite how the events unfolded following the collision. In turn, I free myself to find my way through the brutal and beautiful in life.

I see today as a new beginning as we each walk forward.  I don’t like the saying that things happen for a reason.  I do see that unimaginable suffering can be used to shape us, if we allow it.  We get to choose if we will live better or bitter.  Today I walk away from bitterness and choose life. 

Lastly, I respect that your spiritual views might be very different than mine, but I leave you with one thought…what if it’s true?  That you have a Creator, a Father who says, without shame, “This is my son Matthew, whom I love.”  I truly hope that you get to experience this kind of love and the mature kind of love that comes from navigating seasons of life with a partner by your side.  Mark and I shared over 30 years together.

May the same courage that it took to stay at the scene help you find your way to wholeness and healing. 

Sincerely,

 Lynda Janson

Widow of N. Mark Janson, “Mark”.  Husband, Father, Son, Brother, Friend.  

Delta Fire Captain #130

 

 A Tribute to Mark, January 28, 2015

Good Morning, 

Thank you for coming.  Don’t ever doubt the power of your presence, a prayer, a kind word, a ‘thinking of you’, a bouquet of flowers, a container of soup, or a meal.  Your love and kindness plus my faith in Jesus will carry Brady and me through.

Today, I hope that in the midst of deep sorrow, we will laugh.  Lots.  Mark was the funniest guy I knew (though I am discovering through this process that Brady is a close second). 

I’d like to share with you the Mark I knew – funny, supportive, respectful, loving, and kind.

·         Mark was an optimist…   A glass half-full kind of guy. He supported me numerous times through challenging situations by helping me break them down into manageable chunks and see the positive.  I’ll rely on this wisdom in the days ahead.

·         Mark made me laugh.  When I’d say, “I know that I’m not the easiest person to live with” Mark would reply, “No kidding.”

·         The first time I pointed out that Mark was getting a few grey hairs, he was quick to say, “You try living with you and see if you don’t get a few grey hairs”

·         I’d come home from shopping, excited about the deal I found -  “Mark, look!  I got this top for $14.99!  Regular price, $46!

Mark would point to his shirt, “How much is Mark’s shirt?  Free.”   Yes, he loved his Fire Department issued clothing; partly worn navy blue t-shirts became part of his everyday wardrobe at home. 

·         Mark sacrificed for his family.  When I was sick, Mark would sleep on the couch and when he was sick, he would sleep on the couch.  “Don’t worry about poor Mark,” he’d say.

On a serious note, Brady and I cannot count the number of shift changes Mark did so that he could be at the race track.  His goal as a father, having lost his dad when he was 7, was that Brady would know him.  To many of you in this room, we pause to say, “Thank you”, for trading with Mark; your sacrifice contributed to memories for our family.

 

·         Mark made things happen… ‘just get ‘er done’.  I often had a sense that Mark was quietly scheming and secretly searching for a new vehicle or garage project…  

 

One morning he came home from a night shift and said we needed to talk.  The look on his face made me think that he had some difficult news to share.  He announced that he’d bought a Harley and that it was being delivered that afternoon.  Can you say, “Marriage Counselling?”

Mark had some definite dislikes, likes, and loves.

·         Some of Mark’s top dislikes were dress shoes, driving in Vancouver & seafood.  When I reminded him that he ate tuna sandwiches and always ordered Mushrooms Neptune at The Keg, he’d say, “That’s different.” 

Mark liked

·         Emergen C. One sneeze by me, which I’d tell him was likely allergy related, sent him off to mix up a package of Emergen C.  “I can’t be sick” he’s say.  Regarding his germophobe tendencies, I’d remind him that he had an immune system.  “You can’t be too careful,” he’d reply.

Mark loved

·         Cats – NOT!  Our most demanding cat was Smudge.  Whenever I was away overnight, I would text him in the morning, “How was your night?”  “How’s Smudge?”  He’d reply, “Up since 4 am with PITA”.  Though he called her a pain in the *, he diligently followed her feeding and medication schedule. 

·         All things Shelby Mustang, Racing, BC Lions and Canucks.

·         Backyard burning.  If I asked him to put a pizza box in recycling, I’d be annoyed when I saw it sitting inside the kitchen door.  It took me a while to discover that he was burning them out back.  I told him more than once that I was going to report him for burning out of season.

·         Going to work. Consistently.

·         Being “on-call” for his family… He was always a phone call or text away for Brady and me, willing to help with a listening ear or wise advice.

·         The garage.  I often wondered if Mark got through the hard stuff on the job by creating in the garage.  Mark was talented at metal and body work, and painting.  I was always in awe of his natural abilities.

·         Mark loved Brady, Reo, and me.

There are too many things to mention that I will miss. Simple things like a shared Tim Horton’s coffee, trips to our favourite coffee shops for tea and dessert, walks in Fort Langley, Chicago Fire, The Voice, Shark Tank and Maui.

Mark, your love is the greatest gift of all.   I am so thankful for the gift of you and the memories that will carry me through my lifetime.

My only hope of getting through this is my belief that we’ll meet again when my time on earth is through.  In the meantime, have fun with the cat!

Love Remains

John Fogerty concert at the Hollywood Bowl, 2009

Love Remains

What is true today, 10 years since I last physically saw Mark?

I’m still getting used to this broken heart thing.  In some moments, as the lyrics of this song say, this is still true. 

And, written on my soul is the fact that Love remains.

The “And” journey.  The brutal and the beautiful.

I’m ready for this new year, a new beginning. It feels like a restart of the plans I had for going forward in 2020.  Detours happen. 

For 2025, I’ve chosen the word, Exploring.  The chapter title is Accompanied by Love.  The Love of God and, the love of Mark. 

What chapter are you writing today?

7 years since I last saw Mark...

This photo is saved as "Mark Fav".  I never tire of it. 

7 years ago Mark and I were living ordinary days.  I worked as a Special Education Teacher's Assistant. About 4 pm I finished booking a trip to Palm Dessert for Spring Break.  That trip together would never be.  Mark would have worked nights on January 11, leaving him with January 12, 13, 14, & 15 off.  Back to day shift on Friday, January 16^th, 2015.  Today when I purchased house insurance I was reminded that this was the last 'job' that Mark did to protect us, his family. 

What is it like having lived 7 years without my guy by my side?  I am still figuring out how to navigate, "what's next?"  Still standing.  I have moved, walked alongside my dad’s end of life, Mark's mom’s end of life, Reo’s end of life, and am walking through a planned global event which has divided families, friends, and neighbours.  Like Mark's death, the truth is yet to be revealed globally.  But it's slowly dripping out. 

I spent 5 1/2 years being an advocate for truth.  It was worth every hour. February 24, 2020 a new Press Release was put forth by Langley RCMP with an apology for "false allegations".  My soul could finally rest in knowing the this piece of truth about Mark's ending was revealed. 

The passage of time is difficult to describe.  There is a large gap with no new memories. And, over 30 years of memories past to treasure. 

Today I’m restless.  I have no idea what the next chapter will look like, but I’m ready for what’s next.  I’ve outgrown my walking-out-widowhood home.  One of my dreams is land. With animals. Small ones.  I loved being married… with all the challenges of doing life with another, I’d do it again.  With the right person. Shaping comes, sharp edges are softened, when closely navigating life with another.