It was the summer between my 5th and 6th grade years. I'm pretty sure it was a Friday night, June 19th 1992. My parents were arguing, again. My dad left on his motorcycle, which was normal. My brother and I were playing video games and my mom had some friends come over. I'm not sure why they asked my brother and I if we wanted to go with them to the bar... looking back, probably not the best idea, but then again, historically, my parents aren't really known for making super great decisions...
Anyway, back to the story:
They asked us if we wanted to go to the bar for a little while and my brother said it was up to me. Man, have I regretted that decision everyday since. I wanted to go, I didn't want to sit around the house and play video games or watch my brother play video games all night, so off we went.
My brother and I had a lot of fun while we were at the bar; we played pool, and he won a stuffed animal for me from the dreaded CLAW machine! Finally, the time came where my brother and I weren't welcome to hang out in the bar anymore because it was getting too late. The adults we were with decided to hit up a college party (another brilliant decision with two kids in tow).
I remember this house and garage were full of college-aged people. There were people sitting in the living room, staring, unblinking, at the TV, people laughing loudly through the kitchen and in the garage the real party was going down. My brother and I didn't spend a lot of time in the garage, I'm not sure what exactly was going on in there, but it was wrong. My brother and I spent our time back and forth from the living room and the tiny back yard between the house and garage. It got boring fast. Until we saw the lights and heard the sirens.
Man we begged my mom to run down the street and see what the commotion was about, but she said no. By this time, my mom was pretty wasted. Nonetheless, we stayed at that hell house.
After what seemed like forever we were finally going to go home. My brother and I were falling asleep periodically in the living room, but once we knew we were leaving we got our second wind, happy to be leaving that very inappropriate place. But something was wrong.
My mom was really upset and crying. Her friend's boyfriend was trying to help her find her purse and he offered to take us all home since my mom was in NO shape to drive. (pretty sure he wasn't either) Apparently my mom's purse was stolen and, because it was payday, all of her money for the week was in her purse. When it was finally found all of her money had been stolen. Our grocery money for the week.
FINALLY we got home around 2 or 3 in the morning. My brother and I didn't go to sleep right away, we were sitting in the living room and my mom's friend's boyfriend dropped us off and left. My mom was on the couch, my brother and I on the floor when there was a knock on the door. It was my grandpa.
He didn't say a word for me to know my dad wasn't coming home that night. I immediately burst into tears, my mom was hysterical.
I just remember my mom screaming that she wanted my grandpa to take her to him, but he refused. She was in no shape to go to the hospital. (working in healthcare now, I appreciate my grandpa's decision even more) He didn't stay long, he had to get back. Right after he left my mom was on the phone calling the same guy that dropped us off. She wanted him to take her up to the hospital.
My mom and I have never been super close. But that is probably the point in my life where she became absent. My brother and I were pretty much on our own after that. She spent the rest of that summer in a drunken stupor if she wasn't at work. If she was home she would just spit hate out of her mouth toward my brother and I; degrading, hurtful things no child should EVER hear from ANYONE.
Back to the story.
Turns out my dad got in a wreck on his bike that night. I'm not sure how he found out where we were, but he had come to the house where all of us were! I guess he knocked on the door and one of the zombies answered. They didn't know who my mom was, they told my dad to get the fuck out of there. My brother and I must've been in the backyard at that time, damnit! My dad said he had come to that place to get the house key from my mom. If my brother and I would've been home, he wouldn't have needed it. :'(
Those lights and sirens were him. Becoming paralyzed. He claims he was "run off the road" by a guy who owed him money. I think its clear my dad was in no shape to operate any kind of vehicle. I'm confident my dad was drunk and high when he veered off that street and hit a HOUSE.
I remember lots of tubes, I remember the tube coming out of his nose putting lots of green gunk in a canister. I remember him being suspended and rotated on a special bed for people who have broken their backs. I remember he became so thin I could see every bone in his body. I remember how hard in-patient rehab was for him. I remember how he lost his dignity being wheeled to the community bath in their rehab facility. I remember becoming very comfortable in a hospital. I remember hearing he would never walk again. I remember him coming home with his wheelchair. I remember my mom getting mad at him and trying to push him down the stairs in it.
It took him a few years but he learned to walk again. :) He still has a lot of pain. He isn't the same man he once was. But he's my dad. And I have held myself accountable for what happened to him because I didn't want to be left home alone.
I called him today, we both cried. He said its not my fault. I cried harder.
I'm grateful he survived.
He is why I'm a nurse. And why I have faith that people can overcome.
