Come On Irene

I got an email from my big sister today. My big sister is Irene and she is great, she is my biggest sister which means she is the oldest sister I have. Irene has always been special to me. She uses to babysit me fifty three or so years ago—that's like half a century ago. I was the baby of the family for five years, I was cute and according to my big sisters I spoiled. I find that hard to believe but I always knew they cared for me.

When I had my motor cycle wreck back in 1966 I was fifteen and pretty silly. By this period in time most of my older siblings were married or had moved away from the house, way far away. There were four older who had moved a way and I missed them all a lot but I digress. Quickly, a year or so following my accident I had gone through rehabilitation and I had rehabbed as much as I was going to rehab. So, I was back in high school a poor crip from a poor family. Only now that I am a grown up and a parent that I can only imagine ho poor we must have been. Being this poor did not seem so bad—everyone I knew seemed to be as poor. Many of the kids I knew had part time jobs but there was no way I was working and I quadriplegic in 1968. But I had needs. I wanted to date I wanted to go out with the guys and eat fast food and be as normal as I could be.

One summer I came up with a great idea. We sometimes would go years without seeing the older sibs. Many had not seen be sense before my accident. They all knew I was hurt bad but I don't know if they really knew how severely I was disabled. I had gotten this huge old electric, royal typewriter for school since I could no longer write by hand and I was being required to get written assignments done some how. The electric typewriter did the trick. The plan I came up with was simple. To each of my older brothers and sisters, who lived away from home, I wrote a letter as if my mom was writing the document. In each letter I wrote that I had cancer and that I was terminal and because the medical expenses were so great that the parents were having difficulty providing for me like they felt the should. The letter went on saying if they could spare any extra money they should send it to me as a gift. I mailed the letter and then figured the sibs would see through it and that would be that.

Thinking back, I cannot believe that I did not get into more trouble then I did. I don't even think the parents talked to me. I did however, receive a ten dollar bill from my big sister Irene with the memo that the money was to go toward my writing career because she felt I had a definite future somewhere in the writing field.

Big sisters are special they can see things in you that perhaps no else can see and big sisters have the patience to bring those good things, that no one else sees, out of that very person...in this case me. Thanks big Sis for being there..I love you.