Lost.

One of my twitter friends sent out a suggestion that we write a blog post centered on the word "lost" and what it evokes in us. So, I reflected and tried to think of the moment in my life when I felt the most lost.

My mind took me back to when I was two years old. It’s odd but I do actually remember being two fairly well. My parents were moving us from the Dallas, TX area to New Iberia, LA. Because of this, I and my older sister were staying in Fayetteville, AR with my Grandparents.

My Grandmother took care of the older widows in her neighborhood. She would mow their lawns for them, help them with chores around the house or take them to the grocery store. While we were visiting her, she took us around to all their houses to say, “Hi.” And brighten their days.

I don’t remember what day of the week it was but it was early in the afternoon when the event I’m rambling toward took place. My Grandmother loaded us into her boat of a car, this was 1981 after all, and took us to Aunt Thelma’s house. Of course, Aunt Thelma was no relation to us but that didn’t seem to matter. Our mission was to take her to a department store to help her get some needed shopping done.

We arrived and bought the needed items without incident. However, when it was time to go, Grandma noticed that Aunt Thelma had been worn out by traipsing around the large store. She decided to have us wait by the entrance and bring the car around.

Once Aunt Thelma was situated in the front seat, my older sister and I tried to climb in. I do mean “climb” in. That car was huge to my little two year old self. I was struggling and my sister, unfortunately, wasn’t helping. She was pushing me but against the car instead of up into the back seat.

My Grandmother leaned over the front seat to offer me a hand and I’m not sure what she did to make what followed happen but the car suddenly surged backward. The open car door hit me with a great deal of force and I fell. Almost instantly the front wheel was up and over me and I was left lying on the ground.

My Grandmother panicked and didn’t apply the brakes for a few very long seconds which allowed the car to travel some distance from where I had fallen. My older sister had been grasping the inside handle of the car door and was knocked off her feet but not under the car as I had been. She was, however, dragged quite a long distance across the rough asphalt and had severe abrasions. Also, when my Grandmother applied the brakes she did so very suddenly and the car door tried to slam shut over my sister, causing some very painful bruising.

While my older sister’s injuries were basically superficial, they were very painful and the situation so sudden that she went into shock. I remember hearing her screaming and turning my head. For some reason, I didn’t even try to get up or move. I didn’t feel any pain. I just felt strange. I watched my sister get up and start a limping pace; back and forth. Someone rushed over and picked her up and I remember her sobs turning into an intense screaming. Then she went quiet and there were a lot of people between her and me. Then I saw her being carried over to a car. She was now wrapped in a blanket and they put her on the hood of the car.

No one seemed to notice me. My sister had started crying again and I realized she was crying out my name. I don’t know why, but I didn’t answer. Everything seemed to be telling me to be very still. I noticed my Grandmother talking to my sister and then yelling and looking around.

She saw me and ran over. She asked me questions in a very soft voice. I don’t remember exactly what they were and I don’t remember answering her. She picked me up very gently and I was relieved that there was no pain, though I frightened that I expected it.

An ambulance arrived and they started to load my sister onto a board and into the ambulance. She started screaming my name at that point and asking where I was. I still didn’t say anything.

My Grandmother walked over to one of the ambulance drivers and told him she thought she had run over me. He argued with her but she was adamant. I remember her saying she knew she had run over something and my sister had claimed it was me. I remember the ambulance driver being very annoyed and telling my Grandmother that I looked fine and to take me home. If I was still acting strangely in an hour, bring me to the hospital.

Then my Grandmother started yelling and I don’t remember the exact words, just that the yelling scared me. I, at this point, was terrified of the ambulance driver.

He reached out and grabbed me roughly out of my Grandmother’s arms and I finally felt the pain. It was like someone had spilt something very hot on my abdomen. It really did feel wet and spread outward. I heard screaming and it took me a moment to realize it was me. I felt like I was being peeled apart, it was absolutely terrible awful pain.

The ambulance driver moved me quickly over to the ambulance at that point. I could hear my sister and was actually comforted to know that she was closer but I couldn’t stop screaming. I wanted to stop because my throat was already hurting from it but it was completely out of my control.

They tied me to a board which made the pain much worse. I saw my sister, but then they put a brace on my neck and I couldn’t see her anymore. I started crying out her name and could hear her, so close to me, crying mine.

I have never in my life felt so lost and alone as I did for those few minutes in that ambulance when I was tied to a board in mind numbing pain, unable to move or look at anything but the ceiling above me.

I knew my parents were very far away. My Grandmother had left me and though my big sister seemed to be right there, all I could do was listen to her scream.

Then I felt someone fiddling with the straps and my right arm came free. A large hand moved mine and suddenly I was grasping a very familiar small hand, my sister’s. Someone had freed our arms and put our hands together.

I squeezed my sister’s hand and felt connected again. My sister stopped crying. She squeezed my hand back and told me I was okay. Hearing her voice made me feel safe and somehow oriented in the world again. I managed to stop crying and we rode the rest of the way to the hospital in almost complete silence.

When we arrived, I was removed first. The very last thing I remember on that day is someone forcefully removing my hand from my sisters. I think that was the point I lost consciousness.

The rest of the story is that I had broken my pelvis and done some damage to various abdominal organs but made an almost 100% complete recovery.

I spent some time in the hospital. The feeling that my stay there would never end wasn’t helped by the fact that I actually had my third birthday there. All in all it was probably only two weeks to a month. I’m really not sure.

The entire time I was away from home, my sister would sleep walk at night. In her sleep she would wander around my Grandparents house calling my name and looking for me.

In the hospital I would call her name in my sleep. When she was visiting, no one else was allowed to push my wheel chair and for quite some time after the accident, she had a hard time letting me out of her sight.

I don’t think I will ever forget that on the day and moment in my life when I was the most lost; the person who found me and made me feel safe was my big sister.

I’m not sure now if it’s because of that or just because she is my big sister, but nothing in my life seems real until I’ve told her. It’s like I orient myself around her. Whenever I am hurt or lonely or lost, the person to whom I turn for direction has always been and will always be my big sister.