Unlucky 13-more to the story

Prior to Marty’s death in 1997, every single significant and insignificant moment of my life was shared with him.

First some insignificant ones. In our large family, it was understood that the older kids looked after the younger kids. And, even though Marty was the baby of the family and enjoyed 6 years of everyone looking after him, when I came along he, too, despite his young age, was charged with looking after me. He was no longer the baby, I was.

So every time I came home crying (I skinned my knee, someone was mean to me or excluded me, or I lost at kick-the-can—girls do cry over that), Marty got in trouble for not looking after his “sister.” Of course there were more serious incidents—kids will be kids—like the time he coaxed me to jump on the bed and I fell and hit my head and I required stitches; or the time he dared me to put my hand in the flywheel of the exercise bike which chewed my middle finger up so badly that all they could do was let it heal into a nasty lumpy scare that I still bare to this day. Sadly, Marty was physically abused for these more serious transgressions, not me; but never held it against me and throughout my life was always was my biggest cheerleader. He cheered the loudest at my grade-school graduation as I received the Benny Bonano resolution (Hev, you’ll remember that one), at my high school graduation and sobbed with pride and joy the day I graduated top of my English class at John Carroll University (JCU).

I have so, so many memories of our bond….But the one that sticks with me the most, was the day that I got the life-changing news that I was pregnant with Meghanne. Crap! How did a smart girl like this let this happen? 19 my whole life ahead me and I had a plan.

I always excelled at school—okay I spent those 4 years in high school partying, not living up to my potential, but I made up for it when I went to the University of Dayton. Two months into my college experience I totally quit partying and directed 100% of my energies into school. After all, I was determined, I had a promising law career in my future. A party girl couldn’t achieve that. So one drunken night in my friend Katie’s room I took a hard look in the mirror and didn’t like the reflection. I quit cold turkey, and didn’t touch a drop of alcohol until four ½ years later, the day of my last final senior year at JCU—that night is a whole other story.

Back to CRAP! Positive. I’m pregnant! After I told Meg’s dad, my next phone call was to Marty. CRAP! Fortunately it happened at the end of the semester and I’d be home in a week. Marty's reaction… don’t worry “Sha”—pronouced Shea, my family nickname, we’ll figure this out together. Always looking out for his sister.

So I came home and Marty lived up to his promise…we’ll figure this out together…and we did.

To be continued.