Today, February 15, 2009, is the one year anniversary of my brother John’s death.
John’s death was not unexpected, but it came suddenly, without warning. He was in the hospital for surgery to block the blood clots in his leg from breaking through & attacking his heart.
For reasons we do not & will never know, he disconnected all the IVs attached to his body & attempted to leave the hospital.
He went into cardiac arrest. The hospital staff attempted to revive him, but his body was just too weak to cooperate. He left his mother, his sisters & brother, his daughter & son, his friends & extended family.
My favorite memory of John dates back to our childhood, living on Morningstar Lane in Farmer’s Branch, Texas, outside of Dallas.
Morningstar Lane abutted an open field – destined to become part of the LBJ Freeway. But in those days, the field was open & a small creek flowed through it.
We wandered free in those days – different times, fewer threats. John loved the creek & brought home as many frogs as he could hold in his hands.
Why he never took a jar or container to fill with frogs, I do not know.
One morning, I went out on the front porch & found John there, his right hand clenched. I asked him what he had.
“A frog,” he replied & opened his hand to reveal a very small, very dead frog.
“John,” I said gently, “I think that this frog is not alive.”
He smiled & curled his fingers around the frog.
“He’s just sleeping.”
This is how I think of John. He’s just sleeping.
One day, he will wake up & I will be there.
