Happy He Is Here

 

With five kids in the house, there were many phases of multiple kids attending different schools at the same time. For example, my older sister and I were in grade six and seven in middle school while the younger two girls were in elementary school. Luke wasn't in school yet. Our after school routine everyday was that my mom picked Manda and I up from school with Luke, drove to the elementary school, waited about forty minutes (which felt a lot longer back then) and then took turns walking up to get Jill and Holly from their classrooms. 

At the time this was the absolute worst thing I thought I could possibly have to do and probably didn't make it very easy on Tina. Anyways, we found ways to kill the time. One day in particular Luke and I were in the middle of a really fun game of peek a boo when it took a dark turn that could have really changed our lives forever. 


(For reference, this is about how old Luke was at the time) 

You know how in a minivan you can stand in the trunk and can access the trunk from inside the car? I don't know what the technical term is, but we had one of those. So Luke was standing in the trunk and i was in the middle row of seats popping up and saying "BOO!" for Luke to then laugh really hard. It was going on for quite a few minutes. Our game was paused as I started to pay attention to whatever was going on with my mom in the drivers seat. So a few minutes passed and I turned around to resume our game, but when I turn around he isn't laughing and waiting for the anticipation. He has somehow gotten his head stuck with his chin on top of the headrest and the top of his head tight against the roof of the van, with the top of the headrest against his windpipe. Turning purple, tears down his cheeks, arms flailing, unable to make a sound. 

I screamed as I hurdled over the seats of the van, which felt so much longer when it was my baby brother's life on the line. I got to him and twisted his little head out from where it was stuck and he crashed to the floor. What had happened is that he was standing on a bag of pot soil in the trunk, which is why he had been tall enough to rest his chin on the head rest. While I had my back turned, the bag of pot soil rolled out from under his feet so he was hanging with the headrest pushed against his windpipe. 

What I remember next is him letting out one huge scream as my mom got to the back of the car, opened the door and picked him up. The visual I have is her walking away from us with Luke's little face over her shoulder. I thought we had lost him. 

I have recalled this incident in counselling a few times because I think that it has plenty to do with my fears around bad things happening to my family members. But the end of the story for me is Luke being okay. Though it wasn't his first or last brush with death the whole thing made me realize even at a young age that life is precious and we shouldn't take anything or anyone for granted. Luke is one of my good friends and I can't imagine my life without him. We are so lucky he is here. 










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