indra
ONE love, blood, life
- Joined
- Jan 20, 2004
- Messages
- 12,689
I love stuff like this. I have several stories.
When I was five I was mauled by a dog we had just gotten ("good with kids" my ass ) in our front yard. My sister, who was only nine, tried to get the dog off me, but was no match for the dog (plus she had to make sure the foster child we had at the time was out of harm's way). My mom wasn't at home (she had one meeting she went to every month -- happened to be that evening. figures) and my dad and brother were rototilling and mowing in the back yard, and so couldn't hear or see what was happening.
We lived on a main road then and lots of cars passed just yards away (my sister said later that some people even waved as they went by), but one guy stopped. He managed to get me away from the dog and then held me above his head because the dog was still leaping for me. I don't remember anything about the mauling itself, but I do remember looking down from above the guy's head at the snarling, snapping dog still leaping for me. At that moment my dad came around the house with the rototiller -- the look of shock and horror has also stuck in my mind all these year too.
Now what that man did for me was already pretty damned special, but it continued. He came with us on the 20 mile drive to the hospital. I sat on his lap in the car (hey, it was the '60s) and he kept me calm and my mind off my injuries by teaching me to whistle and to wink on that drive. Over 30 years later I still remember that (I never learned to whistle any better than I did that night unfortunately) and I really appreciate what he did that evening -- from very possibly saving my life to gently calming a frightened and injured child.
He said later that as he was driving he did initially think we were playing, but suddenly he realised we weren't and he stopped. He was a Vietnam vet and I always wonder if his experiences there helped him to recognise terror when no one else driving by that day did. Another thing that makes what he did even more incredible is that he had been wounded there and had lost most of the use of one arm. So he picked me up and held me above his head using only one arm.
Yeah. That left a big impression on me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Several months after my dad died we had an auction to liquidate his estate. Dad liked to buy stuff (mostly very nice stuff) so the auction was held over two saturdays and lasted the whole day each day. The set up (which we did much of ourselves) and the auction days themselves were exhausting. Not only because of the work and the expected emotional pull, but also because of the animosity from his siblings who never considered us -- his children -- a part of his family. Because he died without a will, his estate automatically went to his next of kin, which in his case was us, and there was nothing they could do about it (although they tried). His siblings were spitting mad at that and made sure we and everyone else were aware of it. So it was exhausting and we didn't have a lot of support. One woman (who is still a very good friend) made sure we all had breakfast and dinner each day. That was sooooo wonderful.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My mother was never in the best of health so I lived with her and helped her out. My main job the last eight years of her life was taking care of her (and my aunt who has down's syndrome). Because we lived in a rural area there really wasn't much in the way of social services, so you're pretty much on your own. The same woman from the story above was a constant source of support. She would often call or drop by just to check up on us and we could call her at any time of the day or night if we needed help. That meant a lot to me. And I was able to reciprocate by lending an ear and helping out when she needed it. You see her husband had Alzheimer's and toward the end needed constant care. We were able to talk to each other about things you really can't discuss with people who haven't been there. It helped both of us.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My mother was in the hospital -- we had just found out that her heart had gotten substantially worse and she needed open heart surgery (valve replacement). My sister was flying in from California (arriving at about 5 am). I was to pick her up at the airport (about 70 miles away) and then we would go to the hospital where mom was having a cardiac catheterization to give the doctors a good look before the actual surgery.
So I wake up in the wee hours of the morning to get ready to go -- and one of the dogs was obviously in distress. She was acting as if something was caught in her throat, but I couldn't feel or see anything. Well it's still really early in the morning, but I call my vet anyway. I'd been very calm and managing pretty well, but when the vet answered I just lost it. I remember wailing that mom was in the hospital and was going to have to have heart surgery and Beth was at the airport and I was already late to get her and now Cricket was sick and I couldn't just leave her. It must have been really special to hear that. (the vet was an old family friend -- I've known him, his parents, and siblings pretty much all my life) Anyway, he told me to just drop Cricket off and not worry as they would take care of her and I could pick her up whenever. (he also made sure that his folks knew about mom so we got calls ands support there too). I was so relieved. Cricket had tonsillitis and did just fine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've also gotten loads of cds, videos, photos, articles etc., that I would never have otherwise from many people. Those can really brighten tough times, and I appreciate every one of them and the thought and care behind them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And I see it's nearly 4:30 am and I haven't had a good night's sleep in days, so I'm going to write up part B another time.
It's been a lot of fun remembering all these really special things people have done for me.
When I was five I was mauled by a dog we had just gotten ("good with kids" my ass ) in our front yard. My sister, who was only nine, tried to get the dog off me, but was no match for the dog (plus she had to make sure the foster child we had at the time was out of harm's way). My mom wasn't at home (she had one meeting she went to every month -- happened to be that evening. figures) and my dad and brother were rototilling and mowing in the back yard, and so couldn't hear or see what was happening.
We lived on a main road then and lots of cars passed just yards away (my sister said later that some people even waved as they went by), but one guy stopped. He managed to get me away from the dog and then held me above his head because the dog was still leaping for me. I don't remember anything about the mauling itself, but I do remember looking down from above the guy's head at the snarling, snapping dog still leaping for me. At that moment my dad came around the house with the rototiller -- the look of shock and horror has also stuck in my mind all these year too.
Now what that man did for me was already pretty damned special, but it continued. He came with us on the 20 mile drive to the hospital. I sat on his lap in the car (hey, it was the '60s) and he kept me calm and my mind off my injuries by teaching me to whistle and to wink on that drive. Over 30 years later I still remember that (I never learned to whistle any better than I did that night unfortunately) and I really appreciate what he did that evening -- from very possibly saving my life to gently calming a frightened and injured child.
He said later that as he was driving he did initially think we were playing, but suddenly he realised we weren't and he stopped. He was a Vietnam vet and I always wonder if his experiences there helped him to recognise terror when no one else driving by that day did. Another thing that makes what he did even more incredible is that he had been wounded there and had lost most of the use of one arm. So he picked me up and held me above his head using only one arm.
Yeah. That left a big impression on me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Several months after my dad died we had an auction to liquidate his estate. Dad liked to buy stuff (mostly very nice stuff) so the auction was held over two saturdays and lasted the whole day each day. The set up (which we did much of ourselves) and the auction days themselves were exhausting. Not only because of the work and the expected emotional pull, but also because of the animosity from his siblings who never considered us -- his children -- a part of his family. Because he died without a will, his estate automatically went to his next of kin, which in his case was us, and there was nothing they could do about it (although they tried). His siblings were spitting mad at that and made sure we and everyone else were aware of it. So it was exhausting and we didn't have a lot of support. One woman (who is still a very good friend) made sure we all had breakfast and dinner each day. That was sooooo wonderful.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My mother was never in the best of health so I lived with her and helped her out. My main job the last eight years of her life was taking care of her (and my aunt who has down's syndrome). Because we lived in a rural area there really wasn't much in the way of social services, so you're pretty much on your own. The same woman from the story above was a constant source of support. She would often call or drop by just to check up on us and we could call her at any time of the day or night if we needed help. That meant a lot to me. And I was able to reciprocate by lending an ear and helping out when she needed it. You see her husband had Alzheimer's and toward the end needed constant care. We were able to talk to each other about things you really can't discuss with people who haven't been there. It helped both of us.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My mother was in the hospital -- we had just found out that her heart had gotten substantially worse and she needed open heart surgery (valve replacement). My sister was flying in from California (arriving at about 5 am). I was to pick her up at the airport (about 70 miles away) and then we would go to the hospital where mom was having a cardiac catheterization to give the doctors a good look before the actual surgery.
So I wake up in the wee hours of the morning to get ready to go -- and one of the dogs was obviously in distress. She was acting as if something was caught in her throat, but I couldn't feel or see anything. Well it's still really early in the morning, but I call my vet anyway. I'd been very calm and managing pretty well, but when the vet answered I just lost it. I remember wailing that mom was in the hospital and was going to have to have heart surgery and Beth was at the airport and I was already late to get her and now Cricket was sick and I couldn't just leave her. It must have been really special to hear that. (the vet was an old family friend -- I've known him, his parents, and siblings pretty much all my life) Anyway, he told me to just drop Cricket off and not worry as they would take care of her and I could pick her up whenever. (he also made sure that his folks knew about mom so we got calls ands support there too). I was so relieved. Cricket had tonsillitis and did just fine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've also gotten loads of cds, videos, photos, articles etc., that I would never have otherwise from many people. Those can really brighten tough times, and I appreciate every one of them and the thought and care behind them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And I see it's nearly 4:30 am and I haven't had a good night's sleep in days, so I'm going to write up part B another time.
It's been a lot of fun remembering all these really special things people have done for me.