And Then He Was Gone - MY Story Part 4

My big brother was my protector.  He took me with him to play with his friends.  He watched out for me, and on occasion hit kids who weren’t nice to me.  One day in 1987 that all changed.

I was seven and he was ten.  I was playing at my best friend’s house when they were cutting down a tree in the front yard.  The tree fell on the power lines and snapped one.  And the wire was on the ground and it was live.  My brother came to tell me it was time to come home.  His told me we were going to visit my dad at work, and his last words to me were, “If you don’t come now, we’ll leave without you.”  With that he got back on his bike.  Rode up the driveway.  And burst into flames.  The live wire had touched the metal of his bike and he was electrocuted.  He died instantly.  And I stood there watching. 

I froze.  I couldn’t move.  People were running.  People were yelling.  And for me, time stood still.  My friends mom grabbed us.  She took us to the house next door (my friend’s grandparent’s house), fed us aspirin, and locked us in the game room.  We didn’t know what to do.  We were crying.  I tried the antique phone they had on the wall, but but it was just a decoration. 

Time passed.  At some point my mom came to find out what was going on.  No one had called her.  I remember sitting on the counter.  Being interviewed by the police.  And really having no idea of what was really happening. 

As the days passed I wasn’t allowed to go to school.  Black fabric draped our front porch.  Neighbors brought us food.  And it began to sink in.  He was gone. 

I was young.  I was a child.  I adapted quickly to the change.  I recovered from the loss.  I wanted to move on.  To take down the mourning cloths.  To play.  To laugh.  To be joyful.  I can only imagine the pain this caused my grieving parents. 

His name was Sean.


The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
 
Psalm 34:18