Connections

I haven’t written in a very long time…and when I was writing more often my son remarked how the story was jumping around.  I think that is true – but I find the individual posts are neither linear nor chronological…yet they are threaded through time.  My hope is that it will resonate when it is written – for whoever needs to hear it.I have been compelled to write more than once recently- but the timing wasn’t right or I moved on to the next thought and missed the moment.  This morning I am in 7F, flying to Florida to work for the next two weeks.  I have both the time and the thought is overwhelming…

Last night I opened my Facebook page to peruse my Home and was startled by a picture of my brother and sister-in-law from many years ago.  My niece had posted it as she has so many other family pictures over the last several months.  It is odd to see photos of my family just popping up – some of them I have never seen and from eras long before my time.  It startled me as I scrolled down through my Home and the other posts from friends and businesses that I had chose to ‘Like’.  Although I paused briefly I passed by it merely thinking how awesome that Erin shares so openly the memories that we collectively shared.

Still moving through the posts I stumbled on a post from her brother Andrew … whose thoughts  have a flavor of their own – much like what you would expect  from a young man in his twenties.  I was touched instantly by his words – the different tone of his writing – as he was reflecting back so many years ago when he was a kid…and what it was like to lose his father.  His words described him as his mentor – with the rest of the post an opportunity to tell those that would listen that he remembers this day when his dad was taken away.

I remember my brother vividly and could share many stories about him.  I was the younger sister with an older sister wedged almost halfway between.  I don’t have a bad memory of him and I can’t think of a time when – if I needed him – that he wasn’t there for me.  I think back on when I took advantage of that generosity and wish that I could tell him how much it meant to me…how keeping our toddler in his home for months while we navigated Patrick’s illness and transplant saved my sanity…how he was a cornerstone in the unconditional love I felt in our family. 

I remember the day he died.  He was out on a hike with his son and the scouts.  His wife out of town and our other siblings not local – we got the call.  He was gone instantly.  I made the calls, gathered the kids, reacted in auto-pilot and the rest was a blurr.  He was here and then he was gone. 

What comes to my mind as I think about him is the day of Patrick’s accident.  I don’t remember waiting for the ambulance but I clearly understood  that although he was alive – he was gone.  The ride to the hospital was surreal and I remember wondering who would have taken my other kids.  I remember my husband vaguely as he took charge and kept the broken pieces moving forward.  I heard that there were neighbors and police on site but I have no memory of any of them.  I was blessed with the saving ‘haze’ that takes over as your body and soul journey through something beyond unbearable. 

I do remember brother Barry though.  I can see his face right now – standing at the door of the hospital entrance with a look of sorrow but also with a powerful strength.  There were no words but there was a shared moment that superceded everything else.  The haze lifted for just a moment – and there was a connection that I never have forgotten.  As I journeyed through the unthinkable I carried that moment close to my heart.

It has been a bumpy flight this morning and I find it interesting that I have a window seat instead of my usual aisle.  Intermittently typing and peering at the clouds below I know that that strength and connection from that day are still part of our shared spirits.  Erin, Andrew & Jocelyn – your dad would be so proud of you…thanks for reconnecting me to my memories…Love you Barry!