IT WASN'T A BIG THING

IT WASN’T A BIG THING

At least, I didn’t think so.

Pat’s daughter read this at her mom's funeral. I sat there with emotions that, to this day, I cannot explain.

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She didn’t think it was anything special. It was just something she thought she should do, so she did it.

A few years ago, my brother who lived on the Long Island section of New York, passed away. Having surgery not too long before, Donnie, my sister-in-law knew travelling would be an issue for her, so her husband, my brother, Richie, and she agreed that he’d attend the funeral without her. The funeral was scheduled for the following week, and they made his airline and hotel reservations for two days before it would take place.

Yes, she told me that if she had been able to attend, it would have been not just a cordial thing to do, but probably also appropriate. However, she was still recovering from knee replacement surgery that didn’t go as well as she had hoped. Between the on-going pain and her appointments with physical therapy, the trip was just something she could not do.

With her husband out of town, she knew there was something that she could do that would not just honor my deceased brother but also ease her husband’s worry about leaving her alone as well as appreciating her intentions. She called me.

I lived approximately forty-five minutes away from her house and being an invalid, I also couldn’t attend the funeral. Although I lived alone, my adult children and grandchildren made daily visits to ensure my safety and well-being.

Donnie and I had gotten close through the years and often called each other just to say hello and pass the time of day. This day would be different.

“Hi Pat!” she said after I answered my phone.

“Donnie, hi!” I answered somberly.

“Pat, I was wondering. Do you have plans today? Like, doctors’ appointments, or PT, whatever?”

“No, in fact, the girls just left and won’t come back until dinner time.”

“Okay, then, how would you like company? I’ll bring lunch!”

I laughed. That was so typical of my sister-in-law, and I bet she could almost feel the smile on my face. “That would be great. I’d really like that!”

My house wasn’t large, and the kitchen was just a few yards from the front door. As we approached the table, she laid the lunch bag down, then retreated to the cabinets where I kept the paper plates and napkins.

“As long as you’re here,” I said, “can we tackle some of the genealogy I’ve been working on?”

She had been helping me with my family tree when time and opportunities allowed. We’d compare notes and ideas so we wouldn’t overlap. We shared papers and documents we’d discovered so her husband and my family would have something to pass on to our families. I told her stories of the silly antics of my siblings, especially my younger brother, her husband.

“Did he ever tell you how he ended up with a broken leg?” I asked.

She told me that she never knew he had one.

“Oh, god! Well, I guess he wouldn’t, now, would he? Anyway, against our parents’ orders, the boys, all six of them, were forbidden to act too rambunctious in the house. They’d always say that kind of behavior was for outdoors. Well one day, when our father was at work, and mother was in the herb garden, Billy, Jerry, Tommy, and Richie (her eventual husband) were jumping from the chair to the couch and back again. Jimmy and Harold had already joined the Navy so that left the other four to drive my parents crazy. Anyway, if my father’d have been home, they would have definitely been punished, but well, he wasn’t. Anyway, Jerry went to jump from the chair to the couch, but Tommy and Richie couldn’t get out of the way fast enough and Jerry landed on Richie’s leg. Billy stood by helpless as they all heard the bone snap! Tommy said he didn’t know which was louder: the bone breaking or Richie screaming. Mother came rushing in and saw her son’s leg was now bent in a position that wasn’t normal. His leg was in a cast for about eight weeks.”

“Oh my god! That’s horrible!”

That’s when I laughed and said, “Yeah, it was but the worst was when dad got home and saw Richie’s leg. All four boys were grounded for as long as the cast was on Richie’s leg. By grounded, I mean they had to do extra chores around the house, and rather than have free or play time, their extra energy was spent helping mom with the farm.”

“Wow,” she said shaking her head. “Guess they learned their lesson, didn’t they!”

I gave her a surprised look and laughed, “Well, you’d think so but, oh well, since Richie was the youngest and thinnest, they sort of took it a bit easy on him. They went after Jerry and Tommy!”

We laughed as I told more stories. We ate lunch, and perused what information I’d found on the internet about my family. After a few hours, we took some time to reminisce about Billy, my brother who had just passed away. We talked until my daughter arrived in time to begin dinner.

I know she thought she’d just spent a delightful afternoon with a close friend, one who was more a sister than a sister-in-law, but I knew otherwise. I told her that her visit took the sadness from the day and replaced it with loving and often humorous memories, ones I’d almost forgotten.

We hugged and as I thanked her, said that I’d never forget the only person who helped me while I grieved.

And here, she thought she was just keeping a special friend company.