Pages

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Summer of 1991

I've been In a funk for a few days now for several reasons. 


One, this jewelry business is stressing me out. I've been working so hard at a certain goal. I was within hours of it and then *poof* it was gone. And that actually messes up my next step. So feeling a little lost. 

Two, one of very good friends told me they are moving! I am so very happy for them and the opportunities but I am so sad. These two mean the world to us and I'm going to miss them so much! 

Three, I am leaving tomorrow for four days and totally dreading it. Honestly I don't want or need a break from my kids. I'm not a mom that likes that. I am good with an hour break every once in a while. I feel like my heart will be left somewhere else. And if you knew me my last year of teaching you know I don't function well without my heart. So four days sounds awful. I also hate flying. Putting me in a box surrounded by people, that I can't get out of and my ears won't pop. Claustrophobic me will want to scream! 

Four, school. Oh my goodness I never thought that deciding on preschool would be so stressful. Where, when, how long, how much and why?? Oh the why? I keep asking myself that and come back to the same decision. I know what my heart is saying and I need to just make the official decision and let it be. 

Five, and here the is the reason for all of the above to be bothering me so. When I get back from my trip Kevin is leaving for two weeks to Mexico. And it's not the fact he'll be gone for two weeks, I can handle that. I will be exhausted and miss him terribly but that is not what is so hard. It's the where. Mexico. And this is why. 

The summer of 1991 was the worst, most painful and traumatic for my family. Only a handful of people truly know what those three months did to us. I was 9, but I remember every moment as if it was yesterday. Probably since I was so young and this was all so overwhelming that I relate a particular place to the pain. Which makes me not want to ever go they or willingly send someone there. My brother Sam was on a church mission trip in Mexico, a trip I very vividly remember my parents objecting to. He was 14. My oldest brother and I were home when my mom stormed in the house early from work. She said "Sam was in an accident, in the hospital, two broken arms and no one is sure where at." That moment things changed. My parents quickly packed planning to get there as fast as they could, with me in tow. Matt was old enough to stay with a friend. When I was 9, I was incredibly shy. A family I barely knew said I could stay with them and so I did. I hated spending the night with people, still do. My parents left and I was alone. Not with my big brother or my parents wondering if my brother was alive. As information trickled in I heard "Sam is unconscious. Sam is coming in out of comas. Sam this Sam that  ". Things as a 9 year old I didn't understand, I was alone and scared. Finally my parents returned to the states with my brother. He was air ambulanced home where they discovered he had a massive head injury, two broken arms and several other broken bones. He had been thrown out of the van and knocked unconscious. The doctors said that they didn't even treat him in Mexico for his head injury. Only his arms. They were going to do surgery on his arms.  It was a miracle he didn't have permanent brain damage for how long he was left untreated. They wouldn't  release him to the states unless he was air ambulanced home. Thankfully the police association helped and got him home safe where he was properly treated. He was in the hospital for weeks. I remember waiting for him to be home. I remember the way I felt when I saw him for the first time. I remember being told don't cry in front of him. I remember eating a fun dip at those peoples house I stayed at. I remember my big brother packed my clothes and nothing matched. I remember how many people visited us in the hospital. I remember the moment the driver showed up to the hospital and confronted my dad. I remember the rehab center we spent our summer at. I remember being so scared I would never see Sam again and never be able to fight with him. I remember George Gervin coming to meet Sam at the hospital. I remember how Sam was so hurt but still so funny. I remember. I remember. I remember. It all happened in Mexico. Of course it's not necessarily that place but yet I don't really want to go there or have anyone I love there. What if something happens? My brother could have died there. I don't want Kevin to go there! 

The summer didn't end there. That summer my oldest brother was held at gun point in a robbery at work. I don't know much about that because he understandably never talked about that much. But just like that he could have been taken to and by the grace of God he was not! 

And again later that same summer on Labor Day, the very last day of summer we almost lost our mom. My dad was mowing and my mom came out to bring him goggles. At that moment my dad hit a rock and that rock was sliced and hit my mom in the neck. Which cut her neck open. We flew to the hospital that luckily was down the street. The doctors told us that rock was less than an inch from hitting her main artery and that would have killed her. Oh my goodness! That is the reason when anyone, ANYONE, is mowing we do not go outside. The boys and I are never around when Kevin or a neighbor is mowing. It is so dangerous!

That summer was full of trauma! It was also full of miracles. The fact that my family is all here is a miracle. We very easily that summer could have lost three people. I am eternally grateful that all of those stories did not go the wrong way. But I remember it all and it all started with Mexico. A place I will never think fondly of. It could have been anywhere but that is where it was. And I am internally a mess that my husband will be there. That mess is starting to show on the outside. I feel so uneasy and the need to be protective. I can't do that when I'm states away for four days. I can't feel safe or secure away from my heart and then I return and have to send my husband to the one place that brings up so much pain. The place that changed our lives so long ago. I feel like that 9 year old girl again, the one who was so scared and alone.
Pin It