As I think back three years ago, it is the most traumatic
time of my life; it still continues till this day.
"Knock, knock!" "Jenny, I think you had better go with
this policeman." That was three years ago, but it still
sounds as if I were right there. I had no idea about what
was going on. My mind was spinning, not knowing why
he came to get me. As I looked at the policeman, I could
see him look at me, and I could feel the sympathy inside.
"Your brother's been in an accident; your parents are
at the hospital."
I was at a slumber party that night. I remember late that
night shaking, and I did not know why, but I figured out
later it was the time of my brother Craig's accident.
As I rode in the police car, my mind began to fill with
thoughts. "Is it a broken leg? Is he dead? No, he can't be
dead" I finally got the words out to ask. The officer said,
"It was bad." I just began to cry. I didn't want to believe
him.
We finally arrived, but I didn't know if I wanted to go in.
But as the officer guided me to the room where my parents
were, I knew it was bad. They told me he was brain dead,
and they had to send him to Green Bay. They said he might
never wake up. As I looked at the doctor with my eyes full
of thousands of tears I said, "Please don't let him die, please!"
They asked if we wanted to see him. They had not cleaned
him up so as I walked into that room and looked at my brother
with a single blood tear running down his right eye, I knew
he was going to die.
We drove to Green Bay. I began to believe it wasn't true
because I wouldn't be able to live without someone who had
been so much a part of my fifteen years of life.
As we sat in the waiting room in Green Bay, I knew I had
to see him. I went into his room and talked to the brother
I would never talk to again, I told him how sorry I was for
not being the sister I could have been. I remember four days
before the accident I was at his new apartment. I was sitting
at the kitchen table and I kept staring at him. It was almost
like I knew it was going to be the last time I saw him, but
yet I didn't know it. School was going to be starting, and I
knew Craig would call on the first day of school, making
sure everything went O.K. I never got that call. I couldn't
wait for my birthday in November to get a present from him.
Craig always got presents that meant so much to me. I realized
I would never get another one. It is rather ironic because
we really didn't get along very well because I always had such
an attitude problem and I didn't try to understand anything
he would ever talk about. I now live with a terrible guilt
complex.
When the doctor came into the room, I knew what was going to
be said. But I stayed calm as we walked down to what seemed
to be a never-ending hallway to the doctor's office. I knew he
was going to tell us it was time for him to die. As the doctor
began to speak, it became more like an echo. He said that they
had to pull the plug. The doctor asked if we wanted to know if
his organs should be donated. My mom and dad didn't really
know what to do, but my input was said immediately. I said,
"He is dead and that if Craig can save someone else's life
by his dying, then it was the right thing to do!"
My parents were pleased with my answer.
Craig saved five people's lives. One person, named Dave, whom
we met and still keeps in touch with us today. He has my
brother's heart.
My brother's death is something that I take day by day, but
it never seems to get any easier over any amount of time.
Memories quickly return when I simply hear a song, see
a picture, or even look at something that was his. Maybe
the hardest part is having no one who understands. I do have
two wonderful parents, but I keep to myself. I was always
told to be strong, and it may not be the best, but I don't
like people to feel sorry for me. As difficult as each day is,
I know I can do it. As I stare out the window and look up
at the sky, I know that we will be together when the time
comes.