Stories of Other Loss
My Nephew Dusty
by Wendy Olmstead, Tampa, USA
It was Monday, December 1, 2008. The first day back from Thanksgiving break. I was on my way to work when my Mother called to say that our family has had a tragedy. She said that my sister found my nephew in the shower and he wasn't breathing. She had gotten her two younger children up for school and noticed that my nephew, Dusty was already in the shower. She didn't think anything of it. She continued going through her weekday morning ritual when she noticed that he was still in the shower. She banged on the door but, there was no answer. She screamed for her husband to come help her. My brother-in-law had to break down the bathroom door. My sister watched while he tried to revive him. She called 9-1-1 and they were working on him but, he still wasn't breathing. It had been approximately 35 minutes since my sister found him. I turned my car around and went home. Still to this day, I'm not sure why I did that. I barely remember driving home. My mind was racing. Part of me was in shock thinking that this was just a nightmare and that I would wake up any minute with that familiar feeling of relief. But, instead I pulled up to my home and collapsed to my knees in my car port. I was sobbing and screaming. My husband came out to see what was wrong. I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of my own mouth. We jumped in the car to make the 45 minute drive to my sister's house. On the way there my other sister called to see how far away we were. She was on her way but, was still behind me by 20 minutes. My mother called to say that they were transporting my nephew to the hospital and to meet my sister there. A few minutes later my sister called hysterical. I couldn't understand but, three words. "Why my baby?" I told her that I was on my way. That he will be okay. The whole way I kept praying. My mind had images flashing of my nephew. I was remembering Thanksgiving Day. We had a cake to celebrate his 14th birthday. That was Thursday. This is Monday. How could so much change in a matter of three days? Then I remembered my last words to him. He was eating a piece of pork and I told him not to blow out his candles with the pork in his mouth. No one wanted a piece of pork cake. He smiled. He didn't even get a piece of his birthday cake. He was too busy playing football outside with all of his cousins and uncles. We made it to the street in front of the hospital when my mother called. She said that the emergency room nurse just called her to say that my nephew didn't make it. They were sedating my sister. My mother told me to be strong for my sister. She couldn't get there any time soon but, I needed to be the rock. I looked at my husband who was driving. I told him what she said. He began to cry so hard that he almost swerved off the road. I still feel guilty. The whole time we were driving I was praying to God that if he wasn't going to be the same child or have a normal existence then he should take him to heaven. Not to leave just a fraction of him on earth. Now entering the hospital and seeing my sister in pieces I felt that even a fraction of him would be sufficient for her right now. Was I a terrible person for wishing him into heaven? I still haven't told my sister this. She hasn't been the same since he died. My whole family is trying to be strong but, there is so much hurt and regret. If we had known this was going to be his last birthday we would have made a point to celebrate it bigger. I would have taken more pictures. I would have told him how much I loved him and how special he was. If I had known I would have never have denied him any chance to sleep over at my house. I would have taken him with me to all of my son's baseball games. I would have..... I would have done everything differently.
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