Reuniting with a family lost long ago

I had taken care of what I needed to do for the most part. It was time to return to work. I had taken a little over three weeks.  I went back to the office. It was not any comfort. I was alone at home and I worked alone.  With nothing to do.  I think my first claim came in around mid March and I over worked it.  I was fortunate to work alone as I continued to wear Bill's jeans, sweatshirts and a few days, his cowboy boots.  It  was so odd that every thing fit perfect.

Sitting idle all day long is not a healthy thing to do. I came in to the office on Monday, March 14, 2005, just another ordinary day.  I had been back to work for about two weeks. I started up my computer and the first thing I would do is read the newspaper back home in Lansing, Michigan.  I read the front page and then the obituaries.  It is how I found  out my grandmother's husband had died one day while I was on a business trip out East.  But this day, as I opened the link, I saw some thing I was not expecting.  My brother had died on my mother's sixty-ninth birthday.  He was forty nine years old, six weeks shy of turning fifty.  I couldn't believe it.  I hadn't spoken to him in close to sixteen years.  It was minutes after eight in the morning and the phone rang, it was my boss.  I was crying and he asked me what was wrong.

"I'm reading the paper back home, my brother died on Saturday.  I can't talk, I have to call  my parents before they read it."  Dad read the newspaper on line every day too.  I didn't want him to see it without a warning.  

"Cindy, I'm so sorry.  Call me with  the details and we'll send someone down again to cover your office."

I hung the phone up, took a deep breath, collected my cool and called my Dad. "Hello?"

"Dad?"

"Yeah, how are you?"

"Have you read the  newspaper this morning yet?"

"Nope, just got up, why?"

"David died."  There was a gasp and silence.

"No.  When? Oh my God."  He yelled for my mother who was still in bed, "Dar?, Dar? Cindy's on the  phone, David died." 

I could hear her in the background, groggy from being disturbed. "What?"

"David died."  I heard her scream and ask when.

"He died on mom's birthday."  I read the obituary to them and asked when they were coming home.  They were in Florida for the winter.

"Ah, Cin, they don't want us to around.  We won't be coming up."  I lost it. Their oldest child had just died and they were not going to go  to his funeral? I could understand not coming home for me, but I could not understand not going to their son's funeral.  They missed him.  They missed being a part of their grand children's life. They often wondered what was going on with them.

My grandmother used to visit his family and share with my parents what was going on, but since she had died, they had no connection. I was angry that they were being so selfish.

"This is your one opportunity to make peace.  I'm telling  you, it was not Sandy who decided to have no contact with us, it was David, you need to drive up here and go!"

They talked about it briefly.  They just didn't know what to do, but they would pack and be up later that day.  It was a sixteen hour drive from their door to mine and four more hours to Lansing.

Mom had tried to call my brother when he turned forty, but the number had been changed.  I had kept in touch with his family through cards, for birthdays and Christmas.  He may have not wanted us to be a part of his family, but his kids would know I was out there.  He had a lot of pride and we learned later, he wanted to mend that fence, but his pride got in the way.

I called the funeral home to see if I could get the phone number of my sister in law.  She had mentioned us in the obituary, so I thought I could use that to seek the information I was in need of.  They had it and I called.  Sandy, my sister in law answered the phone.

"Hey, Sandy, it's Cindy.  I just read that David died.  He died on Mom's birthday."

We exchanged pleasantries and I told her I had just lost my husband.  The last time I saw them, I had just divorced Killer.  "What one did you lose?"  It was a fair question, considering I had three husbands under my belt, but she realized how silly that sounded and apologized.

"Sandy, it is what it is.  I called Mom and Dad.  They are on their way up."

She told me she had tired to call them but the area codes had changed at both of their homes, so she didn't know what their number was.  She had contacted the State Police in both Michigan and Florida to try and reach out to tell them the news.  She didn't know where they were anymore.  It had been sixteen years.

We spoke briefly and I told her we'd see her tomorrow at the viewing. Mom and Dad called later, the State Police had knocked on their door to tell them the news.  They felt better now about coming up.  They arrived at my home a little after midnight that day.  We chatted briefly, reminiscing about my brother and then we headed to bed.  We had  a full day in front of us.

We drove up in the morning. I had called Tina and she had found a room for us at a new hotel in the area.  While we traveled back often, the area near Grand Ledge where my brother lived had grown tremendously since we had moved away. We checked in and headed to the funeral home.

My mom was nervous.  She doesn't do well in crowds or groups of people she is not familiar with. She was about to meet her grandchildren for the first time and see one she had known before when he was a cute little red headed boy.

As we entered the room, Sandy was there and as if no time had passed, she hugged my parents, "It's been a long time, Ma and Dad."  She comes from a big family, so most everyone there were her siblings, nieces and nephews.

I was anxious to see my nephew and godson.  I had not seen him since he had been just shy of five.  He was twenty-one now.  My brother had kicked him out of the house when he was sixteen or so and he'd been living on the streets.  I remembered this cute little red head boy that looked just like my brother at that age.  He came up to me and I didn't recognize him.  His hair was black and he was in to the Gothic look at the time. I met my niece, who  had just turned one, when my brother shut us off, she was seventeen.  And I met my youngest nephew, who I read about his birth in the newspaper as well, he was fourteen.

Sandy helped my Mom to a chair so that she could sit down.  She is diabetic and has neuropathy in her feet and can not stand on them for long. She and Dad sat in the corner of the room talking to Sandy, getting the details to the last sixteen years.  It was time for them to go up to the casket. I came over to get them and we walked up as a family.

He didn't even look like my brother.  He was older, his hair was thinner, he had heart problems for years, since his early thirties. Mom was just beside herself, as was my father.  This was their second child they had lost to death.

Tina came.  She was always there when I needed her.  She spoke to my folks, but more to my  Dad.  She came over to tell me that "Dad isn't doing to great, keep an eye on him, this has hit him hard."  My father was like me, strong, but I could see the cracks in his shield as he stood there talking to people who came to pay their last respects.  Men he had worked with at Fisher Body and had been guests at our cottages for many years, came in to see him and my mother.  

I was "working the room" as my mother called it.  I talked to my nephew for some time.  I met my niece, but she was shy, like my mother and unsure of herself.  And then there was the youngest, he was withdrawn, more from the circumstances he was faced with at such a young age.

I spoke to a cousin that I had not seen in years and filtered through the bullshit he was feeding me.  A girlfriend from high school came, I had not seen her since we graduated.  She was the one that skipped school with me on my eighteenth birthday.  She hadn't aged a bit.  We chatted and I was so touched that she came, as I had lost touch with so many from my days in DeWitt.

My mother's cousin, Pat Beasley came.  She had been in Grand Rapids on a traveling bowling tournament and heard of David's death.  She dropped everything and came, with hopes my mom would be there.  They sat together and comforted each other.  I was happy she showed up, to give my mom someone to keep her company.

I had noticed my oldest nephew squinting a lot when he was looking at people.  I asked him if he wore glasses and he said yes,but he'd lost them years ago while living on the streets.  He had boots on, but they were worn and he needed a new pair.

"After your father's funeral tomorrow, I am going to take you to get your eyes checked and get you a new pair of boots."  He lit up. He was so excited to be able to get glasses again.  That's all he talked about before the funeral, was that he would be able to see again.

The funeral was nice.  We drove out to the cemetery for a graveside service.  My parents and Sandy sat in the seats provided. I stood behind them.  My youngest nephew stood there without a coat on.  I wrapped my fur coat around him, nestling him  up against me.  He didn't know me.  He may have heard about me, but we'd never met.  As the ceremony ended, he looked up to me, "You're nice, you're really nice. I think I like you."  I had missed so much all those years of these kids growing up.

I took Eric to the mall after the service.  Mom and Dad wanted to drive along. It was so unlike them, but this was the only grandchild they knew.  My mom walked the entire length of the mall to get to Lenscrafters.  I told Eric, how much they had missed him and he too, had missed them, he was old enough to have memories of time spent with each of us.

He had his eye exam and we walked down the mall, looking for boots and a coat.  He was very practical.  He wanted pleather boots from some store that catered to young kids, but he realized this was an opportunity.  I told him I'd buy him whatever he wanted, so he asked if he could get a pair of Harley Davidson boots, they were sturdy and in the long run, they would serve him better than the pleather.

We went across the street. He said Meijer sold them and he knew just where they were. They were expensive, but I told him, whatever he wanted.  He got in the car and was excited about these boots.  But the most memorable moment came when he tried on his glasses.  He reminded me of myself, at seven, when I got my first pair of glasses, he was reading every thing, he could see again and the whole world opened up to him.