I got the first phone call at 12:33 a.m. I was asleep and the phone was on such a soft setting that I didn't wake up and get to it in time to answer. Once I did pick up the phone, I checked the caller ID and it was our dad's name and number. I, immediately, thought he was sick and would be heading to the Emergency Room. I hurried in to change clothes and get ready to go when the phone rang a minute later. It was the same number. My stomach dropped and my heart began to race. I tried to prepare myself, mentally, for whatever it was that I was about to hear.
As I answered the phone, the voice on the other end identified himself as a Local Police Officer. He was there to notify our dad that you had passed away a few hours earlier that evening at your apartment and one of us needed to make a phone call to your town's police department to get some details. Our dad said he couldn't do it so it was up to me. I wondered why we couldn't just call from our house, but our officer said that wouldn't work, either. It had to be one of us from my dad's phone number.
I am not sure what was said by either of us after that. The only thing I knew, for sure, was that I needed to get to our dad's.
I struggled to make it over to the bed to wake up my husband to try and explain what had just taken place. I kept telling him that if they needed us to identify your body, I couldn't do it. He was as disoriented as I was, especially since I wasn't making any sense with trying to give details that I'm sure he thought I was just grabbing out of the air. He finally sat up and said, "What happened? What are you saying?"
As I tried to slow down and take a breath, I realized my stomach was wretching and I was about to get sick. Leaning over, on the bed, I began to calm down. He, then, got up and proceeded to call our dad's house to speak to the policeman.
Standing in my closet, trying to take everything in, I began to hyperventilate. I absolutely could not catch my breath and fought, with everything in me, not to pass out. My knees buckled, but I managed to stay upright. The last thing any of us needed was for me to end up in the hospital.
Once I had gotten ready to go, we decided that my husband would stay home and let Jordy sleep since we still didn't really understand what was going on. I wondered if I'd be able to drive safely there. My husband wondered the same thing. We had no choice. I got in the car and headed out.
What normally would have taken about 25 minutes, only took me about 15 and even then, I can't recall too much of the drive over, other than praying in the Spirit incessantly. It's all I knew and had the strength to do.
Once I pulled up to the house, my heart began to race again as I saw the police car parked in front.
I parked, got out of my car and headed for the front door. As I reached to open the screen door, I remember so vividly, stopping to take in a deep breath. I honestly just wanted to turn and run in the other direction, avoiding yet another unexpected, tragic event in our lives.
As I stepped inside, I saw our dad sitting at the head of the dining room table, like always, while the policeman was talking to him. Pops had that intense look on his face. You know the one. I know you know the one.
As I sat on the edge of the loveseat, the policeman introduced himself and shook my hand. I, immediately, recognized the name as being a relative of someone I'd attended school with.
I got up to go see how Pops was. As I approached him, he never looked up at me. He only held out his arm to hug me. I lost it. I remember mentioning something in his ear that this has all got to be a mistake. "Are they even sure they have the right person?" is what I recall saying. He didn't respond.
We both gave the police officer permission to make the call for us and, thankfully, he did. I couldn't hear everything the other police department was saying and I was straining to see what our police officer was writing down as he was relayed information. Still nothing. My heart was pounding. How could this all be happening?!
This is one of those life-altering moments no one is ever prepared for or wants to experience.
After a few minutes on the phone, our officer ended his conversation. He took a deep breath and began to tell us the details of how you passed away. To say it was surreal, does not even begin to describe it. It was a nightmare. An unbelievable nightmare.
They informed us that due to the circumstances, there would be an autopsy, however, the Medical Examiner had made an initial determination that your passing was most likely due to a heart attack.
At the age of 48, a heart attack.
We knew you had your battles with diabetes and high blood pressure, but your heart?
Pops kept wondering if maybe you had quit taking your medicine. I found out, later, that you were adament about keeping on top of it, especially in the last few years.
The police officer asked if there was anything else he could do for us. We declined, but thanked him profusely. I cannot begin to tell you how impressive this young man was with his compassion and sensitivity. You could tell he was genuine and sincere when he told us that if there were anything else he could do, just ask.
As I walked him out and asked several more questions, he obliged and answered as best he could. Once we got to our cars, he reached over and gave me a hug, again giving his condolences. I realized then, how much more is required of our police officers than just giving tickets and arresting people. I know you will probably never see this, but thank you, Officer Chris.
Once back inside, I called home to let them know what I'd found out and that I would be staying the night at Pops'. Having to repeat the story for the first time was like a dagger through my stomach. However, I knew it would be the first of many times I'd be repeating it. And it was. I have since quit answering the phone and am keeping to myself for the time being. It's all too much for my brain to take in... that my brother is gone now.
As Pops and I sat in the living room, I soon realized we were both staring up at the ceiling, lost in our thoughts. Every once in a while one of us would say something, but for the most part, we were numb. Nothing more to do or say. It was 2 a.m. and we decided it'd be best to wait to call the closest family members until morning. Helplessness set in.
Still needing answers, I decided the one person who could help me was your roommate, Gary. I called and left a message. It wasn't long before he called back. Apparently, the Medical Examiner didn't leave the scene until after 2 a.m. so Gary was unable to call before that.
Gary, understandably, was also in shock. He was the one who found you. He was the one who tried to revive you, even though he knew it was too late. He was the one that had to watch them wheel you out in a body bag. As he continued to explain, I could hear that familiar shortness of breath in his voice. I had had it earlier.
Finally, I saw 7 a.m. roll around and decided to call my girls first, then our aunts and extended family members. The reaction was all the same... shock first, numb and then more shock. Having to explain what happened, without really even knowing, didn't take long to before it took it's toll. I had to go back home and try to get some sleep.
I got home around 9:30 the next morning, completely exhausted. I slept until about 2:30 that afternoon with this incredible feeling of disorientation when I woke up. Finally, I'd come to the conclusion it was real. You really are gone and are not coming back. I began to feel myself getting upset with you because you didn't return my text that I'd sent the week before. I just wanted you to know that I'm still here and will always be here for you if you're ever in need of anything. I wasn't sure you knew that until Gary reassured me you did.
Later, after we had made your funeral arrangements, I had a chance to visit with Gary a little more. He shared some things with me that gave me so much comfort. He shared how you were fiercely proud of your nieces. (When I told them this, they began to tear up and were very touched, by the way. I only wish they could have heard this coming straight from you, but that's all right.)
We have decided to hold off having your service until Wednesday in case anyone from out of state wishes to come. Today is Monday and I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. Once again, that brick wall has jumped out in front of me and I feel helpless. Wednesday seems like a long time away and I'm not quite sure what to do with myself.
Making your arrangements, going through old photos, recalling old memories is something I never thought I'd have to do... ever. I am tired and weary. This has been, yet, another reminder of the fragility of life. How we must do whatever it takes to let those that mean the most to us know they exactly what they mean. Whether it's a heart attack, a car accident, whatever... like you, my big brother, they might not be here tomorrow.
In some ways, Wednesday can't come soon enough. In other ways, I still need more time to process this. There is nothing more to do now, but wait and wait some more. Part of me will never be ready to say 'goodbye'. You were my partner in crime. You were the reason I spent so much time in 'time out' when we were little. You were the one who drove me to threaten your life with that knife... enough said. ***I'm not like that, anymore!
In closing, I have gone through some old pictures that are how I remember life with you the most...
For my brother... Norm Ross, Jr.
I learned much more than you will ever know from you and your example.
S.
From what I understand, even with the other health issues my brother dealt with, never once did he have symptoms of any kind whatsoever of a heart attack. Please use our story of loss to save your life or life of a loved one through regular check ups and a healthy lifestyle. Cardiovascular Disease does not discriminate.
