This morning at 7:00 AM I was setting in a parking lot at 4th and Abriendo waiting for my son to arrive with my grandson. 53 years ago at the same exact time I was setting in a motel room with my husband, waiting to go to McPherson Hospital, in McPherson, Kansas to see my brother, Jake. Jake had been in an accident the day before and mom had called to tell us to come. We left the kids with Duane's sister. Debbie was 3 years old, Patty was barely 2, Dona was 1 year old the day before, and Sam was 26 days old. His sister was a brave woman.
We had arrived in McPherson late the night before and gone to the hospital. My brother was propped against pillows and covered with a sheet across his body. He did not even look hurt. He did, however, continually kick his right leg and emit a moan. Mother said that the doctor told her he was trying to stomp on the brake. The last thing he would have seen was the side of a loaded gravel truck as Johnny ran the stop sign. Johnny was down the hall in the same condition as Jake. There was no hope for either one of them. There was too much damage; too many broken bones to set, and to many internal injuries to even assess them all. At the moment Johnny's last name eludes me, but it will come as all the memories of that time visit me from time to time.
This was my brother who had set with me beside a car battery and a radio listening to the Grand Ole' Opry from Nashville, Tennessee. This was my brother who had written all the letters from Aschaffenburg, Germany when I was 15 years old. This was my brother who dared to tell my husband, "You hadn't ought to hit her like that." Of course that just got him some of the same. This was my brother who had a new baby 6 months old and had been attending church. This was Uncle Jake to my kids. This was a broken human being that did not even know I was there. And my mother set beside him holding his hand.
She talked of emptying the other bedroom at the house and setting it up as a room for Jake, just in case he lived and could come home. She knew how severe the brain damage was and that he would be a vegetable and would need constant care. She would quit working and stay home and take care of him. For the first time in my life, I saw a mother's love in action. A mother who would give up everything for her child. My father had died only 8 months earlier. His passing had made no impact on me, but seeing my brother so small and helpless was about to be my undoing. So we stayed a little longer and then mother sent us back to Hutchinson to rent a motel room. We would be back in the morning and she could call if anything changed.
We rented a little rat hole room and called and gave her the number. In only 4 short hours the phone rang with the news. "Jake is gone. I will see you at the house." I can not go into what went on in that motel room when I hung up the phone. There are some memories that are so terrible they can not be erased and some hurts so deep that they will never heal. I will just say that Duane was very upset and took the loss of my brother very personally.
So for 53 years I relive the Halloween of my brothers death. My husband and I were married on October 30, 196?, Dona was born October 30, 1964.
Guess what I am trying to say, is today is a bad day in my year. Probably going to survive once more, but just be patient with me today. Halloween pretty much sucks for me, but it passes. Every year it passes.
So, life is mostly good.
We had arrived in McPherson late the night before and gone to the hospital. My brother was propped against pillows and covered with a sheet across his body. He did not even look hurt. He did, however, continually kick his right leg and emit a moan. Mother said that the doctor told her he was trying to stomp on the brake. The last thing he would have seen was the side of a loaded gravel truck as Johnny ran the stop sign. Johnny was down the hall in the same condition as Jake. There was no hope for either one of them. There was too much damage; too many broken bones to set, and to many internal injuries to even assess them all. At the moment Johnny's last name eludes me, but it will come as all the memories of that time visit me from time to time.
This was my brother who had set with me beside a car battery and a radio listening to the Grand Ole' Opry from Nashville, Tennessee. This was my brother who had written all the letters from Aschaffenburg, Germany when I was 15 years old. This was my brother who dared to tell my husband, "You hadn't ought to hit her like that." Of course that just got him some of the same. This was my brother who had a new baby 6 months old and had been attending church. This was Uncle Jake to my kids. This was a broken human being that did not even know I was there. And my mother set beside him holding his hand.
She talked of emptying the other bedroom at the house and setting it up as a room for Jake, just in case he lived and could come home. She knew how severe the brain damage was and that he would be a vegetable and would need constant care. She would quit working and stay home and take care of him. For the first time in my life, I saw a mother's love in action. A mother who would give up everything for her child. My father had died only 8 months earlier. His passing had made no impact on me, but seeing my brother so small and helpless was about to be my undoing. So we stayed a little longer and then mother sent us back to Hutchinson to rent a motel room. We would be back in the morning and she could call if anything changed.
We rented a little rat hole room and called and gave her the number. In only 4 short hours the phone rang with the news. "Jake is gone. I will see you at the house." I can not go into what went on in that motel room when I hung up the phone. There are some memories that are so terrible they can not be erased and some hurts so deep that they will never heal. I will just say that Duane was very upset and took the loss of my brother very personally.
So for 53 years I relive the Halloween of my brothers death. My husband and I were married on October 30, 196?, Dona was born October 30, 1964.
Guess what I am trying to say, is today is a bad day in my year. Probably going to survive once more, but just be patient with me today. Halloween pretty much sucks for me, but it passes. Every year it passes.
So, life is mostly good.
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