When I was almost 6 years old, my family was involved in a horrific car accident on Easter Sunday, 1967 which resulted in the death of my sister. Obviously, my life was irretrievably damaged from that day forward. The guilt I experienced for being the one who survived instead of my sister tortured me my entire life. When I tried to vocalize my feelings, I was met mostly with silence. The family's hush-hush approach, refusing to explain to me what was going on, caused deep insecurities. My parents became brooding, depressed, angry, and every other negative emotion you can fathom. I thought it was because they wanted Deanna alive instead of me. The thought plagued me for years.
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Due to my mother's extensive injuries, I spent several months with my grandparents. In addition, I was late entering the first grade because of the accident. To add insult to injury, my parents did not enter me in kindergarten the year before, which made me feel even further behind my classmates. My first grade teacher, Mrs. Milton, gave me a big hug, being exceptionally attentive to me when I entered her class. I will never forget her kindness.
About a year after the wreck, my mom, dad and I were kneeling at my sister's grave site. I was fixated on the tears streaming down my mother's face. Suddenly, my dad looked at me, hissing through clenched teeth, "Stop staring at your mother." It was the most hateful tone I had ever heard. The look on his face was filled with fury, chilling me to the bone. Every time I recall that moment, it fills me with intense pain. Soon after, my dad left us. His visits were sporadic, and he rarely picked me up for any type of extended visit.
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When I got married at age 18, Dusty came with us. We rented a little wooden house with a big yard, about 2 miles from LSU. While I worked, my husband went to school. One day, he came out of class, and there was Dusty, waiting outside the lecture hall, wagging his tail, greeting my husband with gusto! While the thought of him trotting after that bus was cute, it was also worrisome. He did it a few more times, so we started making sure that he was secure in the house after that. Dusty's devotion was particularly notable, considering my husband was not a big animal lover, nor was he particularly kind to Dusty.
When our firstborn came along, Dusty became too much for us to manage with work, school, and parenthood. My mother's good friend, Martha, had two little boys who wanted a dog, so we let Dusty live with them out in the country. A few years later, Dusty developed cancer. Martha spent a great deal of money trying to save him, to no avail.
I miss Dusty's kind
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Deanna, I still miss you after 40 years, and wish with all my heart that I could have traded places with you on March 26, 1967. For over 25 years, I put up my Christmas tree on December 1, in honor of you. I don't know why. It just seemed a good way to honor your memory. If you were watching, I hope it made you happy.
6 comments:
This was all beautiful to read...it left me teary, smiling and wanting to give u a big ass hug! I've known you for along time and didnt know these details. All I want to tell u is many of us can agree ur a blessing in our lives.
My heart ached for you having to experience such pain at an early age, nothing was your fault. I can not even imagine what was going through your young mind. I pray that over the years GOD has given you and your family some kind of peace.
Gail...what an awful experience for all of you to have to endure. What a precious little girl. My heart ached to read this post and I can just imagine that no matter how many years pass, your heart still yearns for your sister. Hugs to you.
This is such a touching post, Gail. To a small degree, I can relate to your feelings of guilt. My brother was killed in an auto accident in 1967, too. But we weren't children. He was 25 and married with two small children. I was 22. Seeing my parents' grief made me wish it had been me, instead of their only son.
It's hard to go through the death of a sibling at any age, but your situation was about as bad as it gets. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I hope things continue to improve in your relationship with your dad.
I did not know Gail, and I am truly so very sorry.
This is such a beautiful post.
xo.
Gail, I waited until I had time to really read this. You've gone through so much loss... my heart aches for you, but what strikes me most is how you came through this and grew into such a warm, loving, forgiving woman. I can't imagine a daughter more devoted and loving than you. Too many of us hold grudges against our parents for their faults, instead of realizing they're human, struggling as we are, making mistakes as we do. It doesn't soothe the pain, though. Hugs to you, sweet friend.
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