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Today's been pretty good -- even if I did forget to do all of my Japanese homework -- but I feel kind of bad. I was just finishing up studying for my Psych exam when my mom called me. We talked a bit about this coming weekend and some stuff with the bank (I'm overdrawn by $7 o_O), and then Mom got down to what she really wanted to talk about.
Today's the nine-year anniversary of my little brother's car accident. He was five, and I was ten. He was in the car with my step-dad Gary, Gary was drunk, and they wend head-on into a tree. Gary was in ICU for six weeks, and Rob was in ICU for... god, eight to ten weeks, I think. He almost died, and he has brain damage and a huge, twisting scar on his belly that has thankfully faded with time. (It got really embarrassing when he would lift up his shirt on the bus and show it off to girls.)
All I remember of this time is staying at a classmate's house for a few weeks, because my mom was friends with the aunt and uncle he lived with. (Said classmate was a smelly, slow jerk who liked me and -- I think -- peeked on me in the shower.) Then I went to my Grandma's for the weekend, and then either her or my cousin Beth came and stayed at our house with me. The entire time Mom practically lived at the hospital. I only saw her when my aunt Cheryl drove us up to Ann Arbor.
I remember that seeing Gary scared the shit out of me. This was mostly because he had needles and tubes sticking out of him, and looked like he'd been mauled by a grizzly. I don't remember seeing Rob, though I'm sure I did.
Mom starting crying a bit on the phone, and said that she didn't have anyone to talk to about it. Mark doesn't really know what she went through, and Rob certainly doesn't want to talk about it (and even if he was willing to, I doubt Mom would want to put him through that).
I wanted to stay on the phone, because I know it still hits her pretty hard, but I had to go take my exam in twenty minutes, so I had to hang up. I was going to call her after the exam, but she said she was going to bed and not to call. So I really hope she's feeling better. I wish I could have talked to her some more -- it's not her fault I had a test, it was just a matter of bad timing. Gah.
Today's the nine-year anniversary of my little brother's car accident. He was five, and I was ten. He was in the car with my step-dad Gary, Gary was drunk, and they wend head-on into a tree. Gary was in ICU for six weeks, and Rob was in ICU for... god, eight to ten weeks, I think. He almost died, and he has brain damage and a huge, twisting scar on his belly that has thankfully faded with time. (It got really embarrassing when he would lift up his shirt on the bus and show it off to girls.)
All I remember of this time is staying at a classmate's house for a few weeks, because my mom was friends with the aunt and uncle he lived with. (Said classmate was a smelly, slow jerk who liked me and -- I think -- peeked on me in the shower.) Then I went to my Grandma's for the weekend, and then either her or my cousin Beth came and stayed at our house with me. The entire time Mom practically lived at the hospital. I only saw her when my aunt Cheryl drove us up to Ann Arbor.
I remember that seeing Gary scared the shit out of me. This was mostly because he had needles and tubes sticking out of him, and looked like he'd been mauled by a grizzly. I don't remember seeing Rob, though I'm sure I did.
Mom starting crying a bit on the phone, and said that she didn't have anyone to talk to about it. Mark doesn't really know what she went through, and Rob certainly doesn't want to talk about it (and even if he was willing to, I doubt Mom would want to put him through that).
I wanted to stay on the phone, because I know it still hits her pretty hard, but I had to go take my exam in twenty minutes, so I had to hang up. I was going to call her after the exam, but she said she was going to bed and not to call. So I really hope she's feeling better. I wish I could have talked to her some more -- it's not her fault I had a test, it was just a matter of bad timing. Gah.
