Well July has just come with a bang this year. Far more eventful than I would like.
This is a thing I never understand when I watch movie or
Tv shows and the character says “nothing exciting ever happens around here”.
Why on earth would you want excitement? To me, most of the time, excitement =
problems, conflicts, and even tragedy. So I like boring. I like things just
going normal and fine, with some vacation here and there. But “excitement”? no
thanks.
There have been a LOT of changes at work recently. But
I’m not gonna go into that.
M’s Truck has seen better days and isn’t doing too
awesome right now. But I’m also not gonna go into that.
Instead I’m just gonna focus on one story.
4th of July started with it’s typical family
festive events. My brother flew into town with my other brother driving up with
my niece and nephew. And it was really normal. Playing volleyball for hours and
just being with family. Different members of the family played (including my
uncle rich who is over 75.) for just a little bit.
We then began playing the after dinner volleyball game,
which traditionally most of the family comes and sits and watches. Cheering us
on, or being the peanut gallery as it were. And uncle rich came to play on my
team. And I was like “are you sure? Aww!” and gave him a big hug. He played for
a bit. He played for a bit and then before you know it, he was jumping to hit
the ball, slipped, and immediately went down, back and head first. With a bang.
I saw it start to happen and the second he was down I was
basically immediately there by his side. Holding his hand and examining him. My
brother was at the other side doing the same thing. My care taker / first aid
instincts kicked in and I was in that mode all over again. As though no time
has passed between the last time I had done it.
He started making a very pained noise, he looked very out
of it and was confused. He clearly had had the wind knocked out of him, and was
disoriented by the experience. And was starting to panic not understanding what
was going on.
“We’re right here. Take it easy. Just try to breathe
slowly when you can.”
It was the first time in a long time I saw how much of my
mother was in him. The eyes, the hands, the noises he was making. I could see
their relation very strongly in that moment and it was hitting me hard with
feelings from the past. Times I have been through this with her. Maybe not
exactly the same scenario, but… enough. More than enough. I was staying focused
on him, but it was right there in front of my face.
We didn’t want to move him and told people to call 911.
He tried to start to sit up and both me and my brother told him to just lay
down for a little while. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. No need to get up
just yet. Nobody is going anywhere.” He’s not one to want a fuss, so all the
attention (from literally everyone there watching) was not helping. We tried to
encourage the crowd to kind of mellow out, and they were not on top of us, but
still.
I saw the look of grave concern and almost tears in
Laura’s (his daughter) eyes. I know that look well. I was grateful my brother
and I were there to assist and keep cool. And honestly, I know she was too.
He started to become more coherent. I asked him simple
questions to test how he was feeling. He was very stubborn and wanted to sit
up, so my brother and I very very slowly helped him do so. It was better than
him fighting us and doing it himself. He insisted on telling 911 not to come,
but thankfully it was too late for that. I was sure he had a concussion. He was
insistent we take him to a chair to sit. We helped him, I asked a few more
questions – are you nauseous? How’s your vision? Can you see this? That? And
other things. Hugged him, told him I love him very much and the paramedics took
over.
They didn’t put him on the gurney, but they did insist he
go to the emergency room and get checked out. Which basically ended our
evening. And ended it with this intensity. Which of course my uncle would not
have wanted. (side note this whole event takes place at his house) but he was
walking and leaving in a way that looked not too terrible. And he didn’t have
much of a choice, we all told him he needed to go, and that if it was one of us
– he would insist we go too.
Side note – he did have a concussion but is doing better.
Mostly trying to take it easy.
It all just was a lot. I was worried about him. And the
reality of it all was very strong when he left. Both his parents are gone –
before I was even born. Both his sisters are gone. Dead from Diabetes. His
brother currently is very unwell living with his wife in a care facility, and
honestly we just never know how much time he has left. (It’s amazing he is
still around really.) So he’s the last one left. The last one carrying on that
group. And he’s still very alive, running his own company and living life with
my aunt. He never seems like a fragile person. But then again – neither did my
parents.
He changed a lot after my parents died. They were his
best friends. So strangely in some ways, I think he would understand my grief
about them better than my brothers. But he’s not one to talk too much about it.
He’s not from a generation that does that.
We all said our goodnights, but It hit us hard. It hit me
very hard. Made me think a lot about my mom. About those nights rushing into
her room just sensing something was wrong, and being right. And then saving
her. And then doing it all over again another night.
You just never know how many more 4th of
July’s there are. Which is more significant since the last one for my parents
was when they were both alive, and we celebrated it on my birthday, that
Saturday. By the next 4th of July, they were both gone, and I was
30.
It was a lot. To think about. Especially with the 10-year
anniversary coming up next month.
I’m grateful he’s still here. And I for sure want to tell
him not to play volleyball anymore. Ones younger than him stopped playing years
ago! But bless his spirit for playing. And bless him for giving us a place to
come for that holiday for as long as I have been alive. I’m grateful I played
volleyball with my brothers for as long as I did. That I got to spend time with
family. And that I have them in my life.
Here’s to more drama free 4th of July’s in the
future. And a better summer.
