My Big Bro

(Note: January 24, 2016, update at end of post.)

Until I was in the third grade, my biggest problem in life was figuring out how to shorten the time for doing chores so I could spend more time with my friends. Roller skating, ice skating, bike riding, playing jacks, hopscotch, paper dolls. Life was good. Then the unthinkable happened. While outside playing one afternoon, a searing pain in my abdomen caused me to double over. I couldn't get back up.

The next few hours of my life went by in a pain-filled blur. The only additional memory I have of that day was traveling down a hospital hallway on a gurney. For an eight-year-old girl, it was a frightening trip.

At around 9:00 that evening, a surgeon removed the cause of my pain and I woke up the next day with one small, unnecessary pouch-like structure missing from my body. I no longer had an appendix.

It was the 1940s and medical wisdom of the time required a ten-day hospital stay. Children were not allowed to visit in hospitals back then, so that meant I could not see my brother, David. 

Apparently forgetting about our spats and the many things he and his friends did that excluded girls, he designed a get well card and had our parents deliver it to me. On the outside of the card he drew a picture of Mickey Mouse with tears flowing from his eyes. On the inside he penned the following poem.
          My life is sad.
          My days are blue.
          My dear little sister
          How I miss you.

This week my big brother enters the hospital for heart surgery. So before he goes for his ride on a bed with wheels, I’m posting a message for him that I found on the Internet.

It’s obvious that the creativity gene in our family had already been passed along before I was born. I wish I still had that card, but I will never forget the message and the admiration I had (and still have) for that big brother. 

Prayers for a speedy recovery, David Lacy.

January 24, 2016
I'm happy to report on this third day following surgery that David is doing well. Thanks for the prayers.


  1. Your brother is a wonderful man. One that I'm so fortunate to call "friend." We'll be praying for him (his surgery date is written on the kitchen calendar).

    1. Secondary Roads, he is a wonderful man. I'm sure he appreciates the prayers of caring friends.

  2. All choked up, but I can still type. Brought a tear to the corner of my eye. I have always loved you, in spite of the mean tricks, the bickering, the salt cellars. Fortunately that part is all in the distant past and now the principal problem is geographical distance. Thank you, Verla. Love, David

    1. David, it would be nice if we could live closer together. Our fault we don't as we are the ones who moved away.

      I try to forget about salt cellars as that was of my making. I still can't remember what precipitated the incident.

      Lots of prayers coming your way this week. : )

    2. No harm, no foul. The prayers are appreciated.

    3. Interesting the things I sometimes recall about the childhood we had together. After a comment on Facebook from Ilene that she did not know about my hospital stay, I'm thinking we should write about our childhood memories for her. Sometimes I forget that I had ten years and you had thirteen years of family experiences before she arrived.