I read on another blog about a death...made me think about sigificant events and how the impact your life, and how you see the world...my life....like yours is full of those events...I want my kids ande my little brothers and sisters to have my stories some day...just in case they wondered, or in case they can be of some service or help understand. Somethimes sharing lessons, challenges, and pain bring some meaning to the experience to others, not only ourselves.
My mom had 8 Children...I was the oldest. My Brother Scott, my sister Debbie and my sister Jennifer were the "first family" Then, after, my mom had 4 more children, Dave, Beth, Becca and Jon.
We were living in Pennsylania, Nazareth, a small town outside of Allentown. We had a lovely home and friends there...I remember the Eddlemans, Leighs up the street, the Macks accross, the DeRaymonds, and the Wahas. Mr Martin, of Martin Guitar, lived accross the street. We got to live in a Miller Mansion. The Millers were a wealthy family that was a founding family of the little Moravian community. Pa Pa Miller, way back when, built a home for each of his children, we lived in one of those homes, it was wonderful house...trees everywhere in the expansive yard..squirels, bunnies and a wide variety of song birds made their home there, we played many games hanging from the trees, In the house we had an attic,and a basement just for play...root and rain cellars, maid's quarters, imported stair cases, and nooks and crannies, a dream house to me...I felt proud and grateful to live in such a wonderful old home. We each had our own room in the "Nazareth House" I lived in a converted sun porch and Jennifer was in the ajoining little room next to mine, Debbie down the hall was in the Lady of the house's bedroom, and it had a passway to the master, then stuffed with insulation. My brother in the most manly of rooms at the top of the stairs. I have many wonderful memories of Nazareth. I remember playing for hours in the Cedar closets in the attic, in moving box forts and hide and seek in the summer evening, wiffle ball games, hunting for craw fish in the creek and catching fire flies, I remember snow fights and sled rides, water fights..and jumping in leaves...I remember the best Christmas trees in that house, and lights in the yard for the holidays...and I Moravian star that hung in the attic window. I remember candle light ceremonies on Christmas Eve and trips to Grandma's on the turn pike.. The corner store, I remember the Windgap Branch, and President Fulls, and Rusty...how I loved him, and Victor...first crushes and growing up, first dances and first kisses, found birds and bunnies...and death...
It was getting cold but still no snow, it was just like any other day...got up and ran to get ready make your bed...and off we went that November morning, I remember I didnt say good bye to anyone but my mom that morning. Later, after school, I had to go out to the branch and paint sets for the road show, i was in 8th grade, and was paricipating the annual church skit in our stake, ..I loved drama, and was so excited about the event and then later that night there was a branch party and dinner, it was a packed day, so no time for much talk with my family, no time for good byes...who thinks of good bye as a child anyway.....After school, I went with my dad to paint scenery, and Scott stayed behind to deliver his papers, he had a route and needed to get it done before the rest of my family could go to the dinner....(just now I realize that I dont remember if I ever did the roach show...did I? Strange how there can be so much blur around such absolute clarity...) We drove the 20 minutes to the old school where we met for church we went upstairs and and got started on the sets...we needed more paint, and my dad said he would go and get it, I thought he was going to a store...he told me he was going and would come right back so we could finish...I dont remember him leaving really...I do remember that after a couple of hours I thought it was odd he hadn't come back. That annoying fear when things dont go as planned set in, but I held it at bay, knowing it was so silly...nothing ever went wrong. really, I was forgotten, that was the most likely scenerio..I remember standing on the landing of the big of the old school house, staring out the picture window that looked on the parking lot...waiting for my dad, watching every car as it pulled in...it was time for the party, and he should have been back hours ago, my mother and the kids were not coming either, I was alone and uneasy... cars and families were showing up, the buzz of festivities in the air...I remember pacing and worrying that there was something terribly wrong, and then flushing with anger that he had gone and left me and was not coming back. My friends tried to pull me from my post at the window, periodically, but I did not budge...somewhere deep within we know when something is not right..but it is not in the conscience part of our mind...so the circle of worry and then mad worry mad raced around in my mind as I waited at my self appointed post for my dad.( The same circle I still go through when someone is late now) , I hope you are fine...I will kill you for leaving me kept my mind occupied...a phone ringing in the distance got my attention...maybe it was my dad calling to see if I was ok and explaining what happened...I strained to hear conversation that would lend a hint to why I was forgotten miles from home, and where my family was. There was a tension in the air now...nobody said anything to me though, but there were hushed voices and a shift in the energy...there were people paying attention to me that didnt usually give me the time of day, I was an awkward child, not at all lovely, and was, mostly just invisible to the people around me. I was suddenly visible...and there was a secret...I knew it, but had no idea what the secret was. I was very uncomfortable.The branch counselor, Brother Smith, and his wife came to me, at my post, and told me they needed to take me to my parents...I asked why, but they just walked down the stairs, I had never been in their car before and I didnt want to get in it now...but I had been raised to obey adults, so I grudgingly went down the stairs with them and out into the cold night air...dark now, I sat in the back of their old station wagon and the man told me that there had been an accident...there was a pausein my mind as I tried to process what that meant...I said an accident with my dad? He told me that one of my sisters had been in an accident and they were going to take me over the hospital to meet my parents. His words stung, the hospital...that was bad...I was grateful for the dark, I didnt want to be seen, The very first thought that ran through my mind was that I hoped it had been Debbie...she was bigger and stronger than Jennifer and would be far more likely to be alright if she was in an accident....I said a prayer in my heart that it not be Jennifer...she was still a pudgy toddler...and my bunk mate, she cried in her sleep and was a baby to me...please not the baby I thought as the car engine started, I wished that is was Debbie...I had a horrible rush of fear ..the ominous feeling grew in my heart as the station wagon pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the hospital. I had many questions, but could not give voice to them so we drove on silently in the dark.
We drove to Easton, or Bethlehem...not sure where the hospital was...there was no hospital in Nazareth. We got out of the car and went into the lobby...I remember being in there but not the walk to or from the car..I do remember standing dumb, next to the man who made me come in the brightly lit lobby, resented him, for no real reason he was just the messenger, and I wanted all of it, the attention and the worry to go away... he asked for my parents and was told that they had gone home...my knees buckled alittle...they had gone home...I believed my dad may go home and leave an injured child alone in the hospital, ...but I knew my mother would never ever go and leave a child. I knew the accident was a bad one, nobody told me...but I felt it. So why had my mom gone home, the answer was unthinkable, so I thought, it was just alittle accident then..all will be well. I tried to make myself believe thatI managed to ask through the sludge in my throat if my sister was alright then, Brother Smith said I needed to talk to my dad, I wanted to run away, hide from the truth, be hugged and told it was going to be alright...I was with strangers, I couldnt let them know, I needed to be strong, I held my tears in, I was strong on the outside, and a jiggly mess inside. The Smiths said they would take me home..I did not live near the Smiths...they were the other direction from the branch building...they were taking me home...I started to panic and said I wanted to go back to the party...the tension was so thick in the car I could scarcely breath...please dont take me home I begged...Mr Smith looked at his wife...a whole conversation passed between them without a word, as I begged for a repreive...He told me I must go home...I drove in silence in the back seat...to afraid to cry or to speak...something must be terribly wrong.
We arrived at my home...my most favorite, lovely home...that I dreaded now walking into...my feet moved like they were in concrete boots as I made my way to the back door with the Smith's in tow...why were they coming in now...why didnt they go home...as I opened the door I was greeted by my parents...my dad took me upstairs to the bedroom to talk to me...my heart pounded in my chest...I scarcely caught breath as I sat down he started to tell me about my little sister, debbie, going with my brother Scott on his paper route...and that she had crossed a street to deliver a paper, and had been hit by a car...my sister Debbie had been hit by a car, helping my brother with the papers...and I had wished it...the tears started to flow...my dad talked some more ...and then I heard it...that she was dead...DEAD, she was not dead...I was so angry..I wanted it to be her, my fault...why had Scott taken her on the paper route, why had he allowed her, so small to cross the street instead of him, he would have been seen he was taller...I yelled it was Scott's fault...I needed it to be someone's fault...not mine for wishing it...and then the cold hard sting of my father's hand accross my face...NEVER say that again he spat at me...I apologized and cried, and cried...I deserved that hit, I had wished this on her, the logic that she would have been stronger was lost on me....I had wished it to be her. I was a terrible person. The sting of the slap was welcome, it was hard and real, pain that you could feel and then it stopped, not like the other pain that seared through everything and was so new and untangible, I think my dad talked some more after he slapped me. I would think he did, I think he explained why I couldnt say that, and how it was not his fault...someone told me that, and I NEVER said that again, so maybe he told me that after, I dont remember anything that he said, just remember that I was awful for my thoughts, I was awful to have lived when she had died...I was older, should have been me... we had a prayer in Jennifer's room that is my next memory. I went in and knelt down, couldnt look at Jennifer, I had chosen her over Debbie and now Debbie was dead. and I couldnt look at Scott...he had taken her and he wasnt crying...neither was my mother..and I wanted to scream until I woke up from this horrible nightmare. I wanted to cry, but smothered that back. Crying is weak, and my family wasnt crying...I was the last one to know she had gone...those branch members who were kind to me, the Smiths,. the neighbors in the breakfast room when I got home...they all knew, all but me. I had known though...I had been worried, and I had wished it was her...the pain of that and the pain of not having said good bye to her, not having told her that I loved her...haunted me for so so long...My mother gave me a pill...it made me sleepy, did she hug me, I dont remember, I was cold inside, and I crawled into bed and fell asleep. I remember in the morning feeling badly because I slept, in the movies when bad things happen, the distraught cant sleep...I slept fine.
