My grief is my own. It is like a living, breathing, burning being inside my body. It is tangible and I can feel it coursing through my veins. I can feel it when the grief enters my heart and completely without my consent or control it gets pumped through my body again. In the beginning, I felt that with every heartbeat. It has begun to diminsh over the days and weeks; but it isn't completely gone. It catches me by surprise now, sort of like a sneeze but with out as much warning.
This is a personal journey, and I must learn that it is a solo venture, one that cannot be quantified or qualified by anyone else. This knowledge is the first step in my own personal healing process.
Another step is having the ability to joyfully remember stories and to share those stories. It helps me, it is a wonderful reminder of the person Cheryl was, and I hope it is a way to share with the rest of our family things they may not have known or remembered about her.
Today's story will be about when Cheryl broke her neck at age 9 - or to be more accurate, her neck was broken by someone else... My perspecitve of this incident is just that -- mine. I was there, right behind her when it happened. My parents may each have their own memories of the day; but I was the only one (from our family at least) who was there. I was also 8 years old and that was many, many moons ago so keep that in mind as you read along.
We grew up in southern California. It was a great time to grow up. You see all those sappy things posted all over about how we had to be home when the street lights came on, and that's how it was. We would go outside to play as soon as we could and only come home to eat or at the end of the day. It was incredible. Anyway, I digress.
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| This picture was taken in CT, before we moved to CA |
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| Not sure when this was, but we were in CA |
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| This picture was taken in 2010 at Jaime's baby shower |
Our next-door neighbor had a renovated school bus completely decked out as an RV. They would go camping in the desert all the time; but the guy would take this bus out of the garage once a week and drive it around the block. He would let all the neighborhood kids come along for the ride. We loved going! It was so much fun to play house as he drove around. Once we were back at the house (ride was always too short), he would park the bus in front of his house and let us play inside for an hour or so. We looked forward to this time each week.
This particular time, one of our friend's older brother decided to join in the fun. He was 18 I think and had climbed up on the roof of the bus. He was laying down and leaning randomly over the side to scare us at the windows. We didn't know where he would pop out, and it was fun. We would scream and run away whenever he popped up. I guess our neighbor, the owner of the bus (and probably all of the parents nearby) was done listening to the screaming and came out of his house telling us it was over and we had to get out of the bus :-(
We all began to filter out, one at a time. My sister was in front of me and as she exited the 18-year-old who was on the top of the bus decided to give one more good scare. He thought his brother was coming out of the bus, so he jumped right on top planning to tackle him to the ground. He was wrong. It was Cheryl and not his brother. He landed with his feet on her shoulders and she hit the ground HARD. The bus was parked at the curb, so her body and shoulders were on the curb; but her head and neck were not. I can still see and hear clearly what happened as if it were in slow motion. Her head/neck snapped back towards the street and she just lay there. I was so scared, she was so still. I remember running back and forth between the bus and my house screaming for my dad.
Things get a little blurry for me then. I think dad came out and did probably what he shouldn't have, picked her up. Her lips were blue and I remember hearing her gasp when he moved her. My parents weren't sure anything was seriously wrong at that time because Cheryl said she felt fine after that, so there was some time before Mom decided to take her to the hospital just to be safe. Well, my brother and I stayed home while my parents took Cheryl and I did not see her for a long time after that. It seemed like months; but I should probably check the time frame with Mom. The hospital didn't allow children in the hospital as visitors at that time, so I didn't get to see her. I missed her so much. I remember having a pad of paper shaped like a foot and I used to write her notes and have my parents bring them to her.
This memory really should have come before the one about the rusty body brace, but who am I to question when inspiration hits? I can't say it's a happy memory; but that time in our lives before the accident was happy and fun. There was a bunch of adult-stuff after the accident that resulted in Cheryl getting some money that allowed her to buy a mustang when she was older LOL
Cheryl, it has been 20 weeks and I will never stop missing you. It is a relief and joy to know you're still Smiling Next to Me. I love you.
Xoxo
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