Lessons in forgiveness

Even before the hospital called, Marissa Elmore sensed that something was wrong.

“I knew when he wasn’t home on time,” she said. “He was very particular.”

Her husband, John, was late getting home from class at North Idaho College, where he was studying diesel technology. The distance between campus and their home was only a mile.

Then the phone rang.

A 16-year-old driver had T-boned John’s van in the intersection of Lincoln Way and Hubbard Avenue. It happened around 9:15 p.m. on Oct. 23, 2019.

Both vehicles came to rest against a building on Hubbard Avenue.

The teen was reportedly going more than 90 mph.

John sustained a broken neck and a torn carotid artery. His ribs were crushed. His face was broken in four places. He was bleeding inside his brain and body.

Medical staff revived him four times.

The day began like any other. John woke up early, and Marissa cautioned him not to wake their baby daughter, Braelynn, who would have her first birthday a few weeks after the crash.

He kissed Marissa goodbye and left, neither of them dreaming he wouldn’t come home.

“It was unreal,” Marissa said.

His mother, Cari Elmore, recalled seeing her son in the hospital after the crash. She spoke to him, though she wasn’t sure he could hear.

“John, I love you,” she said. “If you can hear me, lift your hand.”

His hand twitched beneath hers — once, and then a second time.

“I really believe he heard me,” Cari said.

John was transported via Life Flight to Harborview Medical Center in Seattle, with Marissa at his side.

While doctors fought to save his life, Cari’s phone lit up.

A call was coming from John’s number — but his cell phone was destroyed in the crash, and John was in no condition to be making calls.

She didn’t know what to make of the occurrence.

Soon after, another call came in, this one from Marissa.

John had been pronounced brain dead in Seattle.

He was 32 years old.

Looking back, Cari said she believed John had reached out to her one last time before he passed.

John was an organ donor. His kidneys and liver went to people in need.

“People are living because of him,” Cari said. “It makes you feel like he’s a hero.”

He was survived by his brothers, his parents and his children — Kortney, Mykiah, Aubreyauna and Braelynn.

At the time of John’s death, he and Marissa were expecting another child, who she ultimately placed for adoption. She’s in contact with the child’s adoptive parents — they’re coming to visit for Braelynn’s fourth birthday.

That occasion will be bittersweet, like so many others.

“Every milestone we go through, John’s not here,” Marissa said. “I never expected to be a single mother and for my husband not to be there.”

She’s grateful for the support of her church community at Real Life Ministries. The biggest help came from her in-laws, including John’s brothers and parents.

“Marissa is like my best friend,” Cari said.

The women have grown close in the two years since John’s death, leaning on each other for support. Braelynn helps them keep going.

She has her dad’s eyes, Marissa said, and his gregarious personality.

John was a big guy with a bigger heart. His laugh was loud enough that it could be heard from the other end of the house. Cari said he was a constant helpful presence in her life and in her home.

In the early days after John’s death, Marissa visited his grave. There was no headstone yet— the family couldn’t afford it.

She cussed at the skies, full of grief for John and anger toward the teen driver who killed him.

“What am I supposed to do now?” she asked.

Then a new feeling washed over her — a sense of peace. She believes it was John’s way of communicating with her.

“I knew I had to forgive,” she said.

The 16-year-old driver who killed John ultimately spent 60 days in jail for vehicular manslaughter. It was unclear whether substances were a factor in the crash.

In court, the teen reportedly wept and said he would do anything to change what happened the night John died.

“I wish I’d known him,” he said.

Marissa and Cari believed him — and they’ve forgiven him.

Living with the constant weight of what he did is punishment enough, they said.

“That kid is going to suffer for the rest of his life,” Cari said. “It isn’t going away. All I ask of him is that he turns his life around.”

Healing can’t come from vengeance.

“Why would I want to live with bitterness and hate?” Cari said. “If I live another day, it’s to show love to another human.”

For Marissa, becoming a widow just shy of her first wedding anniversary was an unspeakable tragedy.

She still feels John’s presence in her life. After losing him, she’s learned lessons she never expected — lessons in faith, in forgiveness, in what really matters in life.

Tomorrow isn’t promised. She knows that now. John taught her.

“Life is short,” she said. “You’ve got to make the most of it.”