The cursor is blinking in this text box... and I don't know how to say what I am feeling.... Christmas is always strange for me because my brother died two days after Christmas 9 years ago... I remember waking up that day, not really wanting to be there (I was less than a week away from being Mrs. Rob Abell and I'd rather have spent the morning with him however the night before he had convinced me that since it was my last Christmas as a Santacrose I would regret not spending it at my parents house.)
So, we all woke up and got our stockings, and then started to open our gifts. If I remember correctly Jess, true to form, gave me as my gift a paid balance on my "fart, freakin', sucks" chart (our mom would put a check mark on a chart anytime we'd say one of those words and we'd owe a quarter for each. Every Christmas and Birthday Jess' gift to me would be to pay my very high balance. :)
So anyway, everyone had opened their gifts and everyone had a gift from my brother Joe except for me (his favorite I might add!). Well, that's not true, he did give me a small rubber frog with it's hand on it's crotch! But nothing else because "I know what I want to get you for your wedding and it's $10 so you don't get a Christmas gift cuz I gotta save" he explained.
The day went on and I don't recall much else except that I remember looking at him that night and thinking he looked pale. (hindsight's always 20/20)
The 27th I woke up and argued with him, while painting my toe nails, about how I wasn't helping him on the computer fast enough... He got mouthy as 13 year olds do to their older sisters and I chased him... unable to catch him I yelled I'd help him later and left the house for wedding errands. I even stopped off at the dollar store and found a soccer Christmas card on clearance and bought two - one for Joe and one for Mike (his twin) for next Christmas. By the time I got home that night Joe was dead.
Again the cursor is blinking.... It was a beautiful night... the snow was falling softly and I was waiting on the front porch of my parents home... waiting to hear how Joe was dong after he collapsed at a soccer game... a car pulled up... my father got out and everything just slowed down... I knew somehow... I knew... he walked onto the porch silently and then wrapped his arms around me and broke... my mind reeled as he sobbed "Joey's dead, Joey's dead, Joey's dead"...
We were taken to the hospital and I remember that night looking at Joe lifeless on that hospital bed in just his tattered old boxers... muscular.... freckles every where... and he looked so small... so little... so young. I remember bending down close to him and purposely staring at the little cluster of freckles on his shoulder (his birthmark) and memorizing it - knowing it would be the last time I'd ever see it... I whispered the lyrics of his/and my favorite song in his ear... not sure why... maybe because it said things like "when I was young the furthest I could reach was not so high then I thought the world was so much smaller feeling I could fly - I believed in things I'd hope for and I hoped in things unseen. I had wings and dreams could soar but I just don't feel like flying anymore. Dear Father I need you. Your strength my heart to mend. I want to fly higher every new day again." It was about the loss of innocence and asking God for his strength to make every day new. It was exactly that moment I was living.
I remember lots of people in the waiting room... but the one person I remember not trying to offer any dumb advice was my cousin Greg. Greg, I have always loved you for that moment. Your eyes were just sad and you just hugged me... no words... none were needed.
I don't even know why I'm telling you all of this.
This year it will make it 9 years and I still get sick to my stomach when anyone brings him up or I see his photo or art work. My son who looks like Joe, draws, is left handed, has the same personality, humor, memory, etc. caught me off guard the other day cuz he drew a penguin and it was a dead ringer for the ones Joe always used to draw... and I felt sick....
Once again....not sure why I'm even sharing this. And don't hug me when you see me after reading it... I don't want a hug. I don't want anything. Cause it won't change anything. "Better to have loved and lost than to never loved at all" is crap. "Ignorance is bliss" - now there's a keeper.
5 comments:
Glad I didn't put my make-up on yet. But lest you think I'm just feeling sorry for you... everything you shared is what goes through my mind when this day, the 21st, comes every year... the year my young husband Cedric was killed. Three days later sitting at my parents with all my gigantic family around me, opening the gifts he bought and had wrapped for me, and wishing I could be in a deep hole somewhere...
I don't think you ever lose that... sinking thing... that first "fall off the cliff" feeling you had when you were first told... comes back every year.
Anyway... I'm glad you shared that, for whatever reason.
MY sister died on Christmas Eve, I can relate to what you are going through.
Chris - it has been too long since we spoke.
I too think of Joey every year. One of my biggest fears coming on my exchange year was that something would happen to one of my family members back in Scotland. Little did I know that it would be the reverse - that one of my host family would perish.
You all welcomed me into your home as one of the family, and truly changed the course of my life. I am sad that such a tragedy struck a family like yours.
Miss you all. Pass on my best to everyone.
It does suck. Last night I was checking the exporation date of something in the frig and it was Dec. 27th. I kind of caught my breath and thought....the worst day of my life.
Christian
Oh, how heartbreaking. I never knew your brother but kind of feel like I did. Malachi is one of the most artistic young children I have ever taught and he is certainly left handed. His personality just makes you want to love him, and hug him and snuggle him up. So if that was Joe, then he was a pretty cool kid.
Robin
Post a Comment