THE GIFT HE GAVE ME

The first conscious decision I made about who I wanted to be was when I was 15 years old. I come from a family of five girls and three boys. I was the second to youngest. My younger brother was only eighteen months younger than me so we were very close.

It was my 15th birthday when my oldest sister and her not so bright husband moved in with the family. They only had two kids, but for me that was two kids too many. His name was Dave and I never thought he was playing with a full deck. I didn’t understand what Gina saw in him. He wasn’t handsome, rich, or funny which were about the only qualities I would consider marriage for. Dave talked a lot about how wonderful he was and his big ideas to get rich, which never seemed to work. That is how they ended up living with the family. This time they lost everything.

We lived in a small, 1950’s, four bedroom house that had never been updated. It met our needs and by the time I was 15 there were only three kids left at home. I finally had my own room and some peace and quiet. I had only been in room for 2 months when Gina moved home. My only sister still living at home and my brother moved in my room so Gina and her kids could each have a room. We were packed into the small room so tight that we had to keep our clothes in the garage so our beds would all fit.

It was that day I decided I would not sacrifice everything to live a dream. I would be successful.

Ten years later I still had the same philosophy.

It was earlier than usual when I started running one morning. It was still dark and when I walked out my front door I could see my breath in the air. I loved running. I felt it took discipline and focus which had become the theme in my life. When I ran, I ran smooth and quick with good form. I focused on the skill of running. My time, my form, my breathing; they were all parts of discipline. I never had time to stop and look at the beautiful flowers that were growing under the bridge that I ran over on a daily basis, or to stop at the top of the hill and enjoy the breath taking view. It was all about focusing on the task at hand. It was a great feeling. I was accomplishing something, improving my skill, I was successful.

When I walked in the door after another successful run, the phone was ringing. I didn’t have time to answer it. If I got to work early I could get some extra work done which would put me ahead in the game of business. I put my keys down on the table in the hall and walked into my very large and spacious apartment. It was larger than our entire house growing up. My living room and kitchen ran together and were designed in the latest style. My bedroom was also very spacious and my bathroom had a large tub with a separate shower. It was decorated warm but very chic. It was my favorite room in the apartment. I never really had time to enjoy the large inviting tub, but some day I would. Today would not be the day though. I showered quickly and dressed in one of my high fashion business suits. I was ready for the competition.

When I got to work my secretary came running over to me and told me I needed to call my mother immediately. I saw panic in her eyes, but I knew my mother. She was always dramatic when any little crisis happened. I thanked my secretary and put the message on my desk. My secretary stood there and looked at me with concern. She again said “You really need to call your mother.” I thanked her again and sat down at my desk. She told me she would be at her desk if I needed anything. I sat there for a minute and then picked up the phone to call my mother.

When my mother answered the phone she was crying hysterically. I couldn’t understand what she was saying. The only word I did understand was my younger brother’s name. Shawn. I started to panic. I calmly told my mother to give someone else the phone so I could find out what was going on. My father picked up the phone and said hello in a very calm and low voice. I asked what was wrong with Shawn. He told me Shawn was on his was to an audition and was hit by a car. As he said the words, I felt all the blood leave my body I didn’t know if I could even hang onto the phone. Why would that happen? Shawn was one of the greatest people on this planet. How could that happen to him? Then my thoughts came back to what was happening. Was he ok? Before I could ask the question my father went on explaining. He was in the hospital with so many injuries that they didn’t know if he would make it. He then asked if I could fly out to New York to be with his wife Wendy and their baby boy. I immediately said yes and hung up the phone.

When I arrived in New York I went straight to the hospital. I had so many thought and fears I could barley understand what everyone was saying to me. The cab driver kept talking to me but all I saw were his lips moving. My thoughts were on Shawn. I was remembering how close we were growing up. We told each other everything. He would ask me about girls and I would ask him about boys. We talked about our ideas for a happy life. That is where we greatly differed. He felt that a family and doing what you love is what made a happy life. I felt that if I was successful I would be happy. When Shawn moved to New York to study Jazz music I was against it. I told him he would never be successful in life while he was trying to chase a dream. He wanted to be a great musician and nothing I said would change his mind. He wrote music and played in a variety of bands. Eventually he met his wife Wendy and they married. They lived in a small one bedroom apartment in the Bronx with their 1 year old boy Joey. Wendy was supportive of his music and she inspired him which made him a better musician….

I finally arrived at the hospital. It had been a long drive. I felt like the entire world (even New York) was moving in slow motion. I wanted to yell out to everyone that someone very important was close to death and they needed to stop and know that. While I was screaming in my mind I was running through the hospital to the elevator. When I got up to the third floor where the ICU was located, I saw Wendy standing by herself crying. I ran to her and wrapped my arms around her. I couldn’t cry. Discipline; I had to be strong. As I walked into Shawn’s room I saw him lying there, so peaceful, he had some bruises but he looked as though he were sleeping. I couldn’t believe he was dead. If I had only picked up the phone first thing this morning I would have been here sooner. I would have been here when he….I couldn’t think about it. This was a bad dream. I needed to wake up and have it be over. I would call Shawn and he would give me a hard time about not being married and how great kids are.

As I left Shawn’s room I saw Wendy’s parents arrive with Joey. He was so happy. He hugged his mommy and patted her cheeks where her tears were. I stood back while Wendy tried to explain to her one year old son that his daddy was not coming home with them. I couldn’t stand to be there and watch the confusion in his eyes. I had to go for a walk. I hugged Joey and told Wendy I would meet her back at her apartment. I had to clear my head of that horrible scene.

I walked to a local Jazz club I knew Shawn sometimes played at. The music there was good and I wanted to go to a place that reminded me of Shawn. I should have spent more time with him and his family. I shouldn’t have been so judgmental of their circumstance. He was happy and full of life. When he smiled it was like he had some secret that he kept close to his heart that made him happy. I thought back to our many conversations about happiness. Who was happier? Who had chosen the better life? Did it really matter? As I sat there listening to the music and thinking of Shawn, a base player sat down next to me. I had met him on a previous visit and I knew him and Shawn were close friends. He told me Wendy had just called. I didn’t say anything and neither did he. We just sat for a while listening to the music. The tone of the music was somber as if it was in mourning. After a while the base player began to talk about conversations he used to have with Shawn. He talked about Shawn’s love for his family and for his stubborn sister. We laughed a little. He said it always seemed like he had a secret. We talked about how passionate he was about the things he loved. After a long conversation we decided that must be what made him so happy. I thanked him and headed for Shawn’s apartment.

On my walk back to his apartment I kept having flashes of Shawn… Shawn playing basketball; Shawn playing the guitar or the drums; Shawn with our family; Shawn with his little boy. He was always smiling and always with the ones he loved. What did I have? I couldn’t even cry. Who was there for me to tell how sad I was and how much I was going to miss Shawn. What about when I die. Would people remember me as happy? Probably not; I don’t think of me as happy. I am successful. Had I been wrong about what was important? Shawn lived his dream and his life was full. I thought of my apartment. I had a large space but it was empty. The only thing there was me.

I started to feel light headed. I had to sit down. I found a bench in front of a restaurant and sat down. What had I done? Was it too late to start over? I didn’t want this life anymore. I wanted my family. I wanted Shawn to be alive. I wanted to have a family of my own. I wanted my life to be full and happy. Success was only a part of life. Ideas of success are different. If I had a full life with family and friends I would be a success. That is what Shawn was trying to tell me. How could I not know that until now?

I stood up and ran to Shawn’s apartment. When I opened the door the entire family was there. They welcomed me with open arms. I hugged them and cried for the first time in years. I had missed them. I loved them all so much.

I will miss Shawn but I will always be grateful for the gift of love that he gave me.