Day 18: Childhood Memory

Day 18 of the Blog Every Day in May Challenge: Tell a story from your childhood. Dig deep and try to be descriptive about what you remember and how you felt.

When I think about my childhood, my mind runs through many great memories of birthday celebrations, dance parties in the living room, family vacations, and fun times with friends.  When I think about a time in my childhood that had the greatest impact on my life it would be the loss of my older brother, Robbie.  

Robbie was born on December 7, 1979 with severe physical and mental disabilities.  By the time that I was born 2.5 years later, Robbie was at Misericordia where he was able to receive the specialized care that he needed.  I believe that most of my first memories as a child involved Robbie.  I remember going to Misericordia...I remember the smell of the food there, what the hallways looked like, and what his room looked like.  I remember sitting on his lap when he was in wheelchair and feeling special.  I remember that my sister and I used to fight over whose bed he got to sleep in on the weekends when he came home.  I remember the way he smiled.  I remember how soft his hair was.  

Robbie died when I was 6 years old.  He was 9.  I remember when my parents told me.  I remember getting to leave school early and my teacher Mrs. Goldman giving me a hug.  I remember going to the funeral home with my parents, my Grandma Fitz, and my sister.  I wore a tshirt that had a print of the front of the doctor's labcoat on the front.  It was my favorite shirt because I wanted me to be doctor.  I remember my Grandma Fitz telling me and my sister that my parents may cry and that is was okay to h.  I remember that night being the first time that I saw my parents cry.  On the day of the funeral, I remember being afraid to look in the casket but I did anyway.  Still to this day, I think about that moment anytime that I go to a funeral.  When the priest read the eulogy, I thought it was cool that he said my name.  Give me a break, I was 6.  After the funeral & cemetery, we went back to our house for the luncheon.  I remember running around with my cousins, playing my yellow recorder, and eating whole black olives and pickles.  

What I can't remember is how we actually got through this time.  It was hard, harder than you could imagine.  At 30 years old, it is still hard.  My parents always told me that Robbie was my guardian angel and keeping that in mind makes it a little easier.  Love you Robbie - forever & always.