My Brother, My Nephew

It was a fateful day and probably the worst day of my life. I will always remember it for, if nothing else, the mere fact that it caused my memory to Swiss cheese. The 21st December 1978. A date I cannot forget but a day that I barely remember. Traumatic amnesia, they say.

I was 8 and my ‘brother’ had recently turned 7. I called Daniel my brother but as we grew older I knew that he wasn’t. He was my sister’s son and therefore my nephew. I can’t remember it being strange at the time, but now I feel it’s a little strange to become an uncle at the tender age of just over twelve months.

We were both very excited about the fact that Christmas was only a few days away; that much I do remember. School was over for a few weeks and we were eagerly awaiting Father Christmas.

I remember there were no sweets in the house so I asked my mother if we could go to the shop. Daniel was doing his comedy begging. “Pleeease, can we go Mum?” he asked. He always called his grandmother ‘Mum’ because my mum looked after him. My sister was very young when he was born, not yet old enough to look after a child of her own, so Mum looked after him as if he was her own. “I’ll hold on all the way.”

Mum was already at work when we asked her, so we had to call her at work. Dad would be home soon but we couldn’t wait that long. Whoever was looking after us, I have no memory of - but I’m sure that my parents would have arranged for a baby-sitter. Permission to use the telephone and ring Mum would have been obtained from that mysterious, now forgotten, baby-sitter. After a little persuasion, Mum gave her consent. “OK,” she sighed. “Be careful and remember the Green Man!”

“We will!” we chorused and we were off. The telephone receiver was still rattling in its cradle as we shut the front door.

We raced to the end of the street and turned the corner. The shop was not far away but it was at least five minutes walk for our short legs.

As ordered we dutifully made our way to the pelican crossing and pressed the button. The Red Man was telling us to stay where we were, keeping us safe. I can’t remember waiting for the lights to change but I remember Daniel telling me that the beeping sound had started. Back then, my hearing was messed up and I didn’t hear things too well. The Green Man was showing that it was safe to cross and sure enough there were cars parked on both sides of the road waiting for the lights to allow them to continue their journeys.

We crossed the road being careful not to run. Always remembering the words of my mum ...

" ... Now wait for the green man to show and the beeping to start. This means you can cross. But make sure all the cars are stopped and no running ... ”

I can still hear her saying this today.

At the shop door we paused, just briefly, in anticipation. Just like a pirate about to open his new treasure chest, we were eager to enter. Pushing the door was hard as the door was very heavy and took both of us to move it enough. I remember taking ages to decide how best to spend the money we had to share. However, what I bought is a mystery.

Racing out of the shop we set off for home. It was mid afternoon and the weather was good so we were happy to be out. However, we had been gone too long and Dad would be wondering where we were.

It was always a race to the pelican crossing to see who could press the button first. Today was probably no different. Who won the race I cannot remember, but I clearly remember the button being pressed. The Red Man was again making sure we stayed safe by telling us it was not safe to cross.

Patiently waiting for the lights to change, we both stood on the pavement with toes lined up against the kerb. Daniel tapped my arm and pointed out that the Green Man was showing on the opposite side of the road. I wasn’t paying much attention to the lights but Daniel was, I also seem to remember him mentioning the beeping. I never heard the beeping but I will never forget the sight of that Green Man.

What happened next I’ll never know, not exactly anyhow. At some unspecified time after starting to cross I woke to find I was lying down in an odd-looking van. A stranger in a uniform was asking me if I knew where I lived, there was a red blanket over me and I could sense movement. More than just movement, it felt like we were going pretty fast. I think I managed to give my name and address but another hole in my memory means I cannot be certain.

“What about Daniel? Where is Daniel?” I asked as a deep darkness overpowered my senses. I never heard the response.

Another unspecified amount of time later, I woke up in a strange room. A subtle bleeping was somewhere behind my head. The beautiful face of a nurse greeted me as I looked around.

“Good morning,” she smiled. The world went black again before I could answer.

Some time on Christmas Eve I woke up again to be greeted by the beautiful nurse and the sense of movement. “Where am I?” I asked. It was such a stupid question to ask. Where else would you find nurses? I was in hospital and they had looked after me while I slept. Currently they were moving me from intensive care, where I had spent the last three days, to a spare bed in the children’s ward.

I had no idea of what day it was, but I remember the decorations were everywhere and looked great. The ward was full of children and their parents. Mine must have been there too, but there was still fuzziness about my head and I cannot say for sure. They tell me they were, but I have no recollection.

Christmas Day came and I remember opening my presents. One of the presents I was given was a small, white teddy bear. The colour was so pure it reminded me of snow so I called it Snowy. For years after, that bear was not far from my side.

For the next few days I had many visitors all coming to see how I was feeling. However, none of them would answer or make comments when I mentioned Daniel or asked about my ‘brother’. At the time I suppose they were either following orders from my parents or just being kind. I was in a mess and I knew it; my hand looked like the seed potato after harvest, I could barely stand and I dreaded to think how my head looked. Apparently I required three stitches to my scalp and today I can still feel a hole in my skull.

I’d been in hospital almost a fortnight and my family had come to take me home. They brought me some new clothes because I had outgrown the ones I was wearing before the accident. They had probably been burned or thrown away because of the damage to them and the blood. Along with new clothes, I needed new shoes. I’d grown two sizes while in hospital.

While dressing I asked about Daniel. My parents fell silent, their faces turned white. “When is Daniel going to be coming home?” I asked again, “Is he better yet?” All the time in hospital, they kept telling me that Daniel was somewhere else. I assumed that they meant some other ward.

“Geoffrey,” started my mum, “Daniel won’t be coming home again -”

“What do you mean he won’t be coming home?”

Mum sighed. Dad turned away.

“When you were hit by that car,” Mum continued, “Daniel was badly hurt. He died before they could get him to hospital.”

I stood there a few seconds just staring, it felt like hours, and then I just ran. “Noooooooooo ...”

Tears were streaming down my face and I ran as fast as my broken body would allow.

The Staff Nurse on duty stopped my flight and I wrapped my arms around her. She could stop me running but not my crying. My parents caught up with me and I have a memory of being picked up and carried to the car. I cried all the way home.

We didn’t go home exactly. Since the accident, my parents had moved into my sister’s house. Daniel’s real mother. I can only guess about the reason.

Upon arrival, I was taken to bed. It was late and I was very tired. I cried myself to sleep that night.

In one day I had lost my brother, my friend and my nephew. I miss him still. It was definitely the worst day of my life.