Monday, August 6, 2012

Not just One but Two

courtesy google search

Supervised play was something we enjoyed after school, using the courts, basket balls and the jungle gyms.  One set of bars was staggered with some bars lower and others higher and we loved to hang by our knees and do other tricks.
Girl with two borken arms
courtesy photobucket.com

One day my sister brave as she was, selected the higher bar to see how long she could hold on to it.  Finally she tired, and releasing her grip she fell to the sawdust pit below her. 

To soften her landing she bent forward and placed both hands in front of her.  Snap went both wrists.  You guessed it.  Both wrists were broken. 

Our home was just down the street, so as she screamed, my brother and I helped her run home.  We did not think to get assistance from the persons at the school office, because they were too far away from the exercise bars.

Fortunately my dad was working the night shift at that time, so he happened to be home and was able to drive her to the doctor.  For some reason, after setting her wrists, the doctor put splints on her arms and not a plaster cast. 

You can understand that my sister was pretty helpless to feed or dress herself, or tend to her other needs.  Mother had attached to the pages of her reader, wooden clothes pins that gave my sister a certain amount of independence to turn the pages with her mouth.

She seemed to thrive on all the attention as mother waited on her hand and foot.  Each week her teacher would bring her assignments and stay for an hour as together they went over her work. 

In time her arms healed, and it was back to school for her.  I have often wondered if the trauma that shocked her at that time, caused my sister to never be the same again. 

There are suppositions, but we can never really know why some members of our family become alienated and difficult to communicate with.  She has had a complicated, and thorny life, and although it was due to her own choices, she has at times blamed each member of the family for her misfortunes. 

At this time, she and I are on speaking terms, but other members of the family she will rant and curse and act crazy when she sees them. 

My thoughts are that when she broke both of her wrists, something else broke too!

I wish I knew how to fix it.


This post has been linked with Joan Davis at: Sharing His Beauty

 Also shared with Hazel’s Blog party at:
“Tell Me a Story” http://letmetelluastory.blogspot.com/   

  

4 comments:

Floyd said...

Sometimes when people think too much of themselves and not enough about others, it causes those type of symptoms... I think we all have one or more people like that in our families...

joy said...

Sad story. Hope she won't be bitter for what happened and see the bright sides of life.

Beloved said...

Hazel,
"I wish I knew how to fix it." How often do we struggle with the need to make things better? Fortunately, we don't have to...Thank God.
I enjoyed reading your story.
Peace and good to you.

Anne said...

It's a pity there are people who live their lives blaming people for their own misfortune rather than just finding a way to move and live a better life. Staying with the pain can sometimes be too comfortable it cripples the person for life.