I hope this may bring some people some comfort. It was the most awful time in my life and yet it returned me back to God and Jesus and what I had been raised to believe but was not sure any of it was really true. Sometimes the worst experiences of our life can become the best experience, although not realized at the time, when it makes a spiritual change within us.
I was engaged when I was 23. Knew him for 3 years, dated him for 3 years and we got engaged. I had no family, so Tommy was my everything. We were friends first and then fell in love. It was a good time in my life. We were both 23 and had gotten engaged that summer. About a month before Columbus Day in October, he came over one night (I had my own apt. since I was 18, he still lived at home with his younger sister and father who had a pacemaker, so he was on disability and was at home during the day. They owned a home in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn. He also had two older married sisters and one older married brother with children and his nephews (all boys) adored him.
His mother had unexpectedly died three years earlier after I started dating him, after returning from a physical with her doctor. Tommy's father went to pick her up from doctors to drive her home. She had a massive heart attack in the car on the way home and died instantly. This was straight from getting a physical.)
Anyway, I regress. Tommy was also Catholic (a real Irish Catholic family) but we had stopped going to church and all that and went out on weekends with friends.) Out of the blue, he comes over one night and tells me he thinks he wants to go to confession, so he can take the Eucharist again, and start going back to mass. I was shocked and said where is this coming from out of the blue. He said I don't know. I just feel I need to do this. He asked me to join him (and I will regret this forever) and I said No. I don't want to go back to church. So, he told me he would be going on Saturday nights and coming over a bit later. I thought it was odd but was fine with it. He went to confession, and then he went to church for three Saturdays in a row and taking the Eucharist.
His father was going to sell the house and take his much younger sister who was 14 to move upstate NY near his married daughters. Tommy was going to get an apt. with me (my lease was almost up) since he worked in the City. We had gotten engaged, we had picked out the apt., put down a deposit and were expecting to move in on November 1st. Tommy also got a promotion at work and was going to get a raise on November 1st. I had a rough childhood, so this was one of those moments in life where everything was going right. I believed God was making up for my childhood. I had gotten a new job and was only there about three weeks. Things were looking great and we were excited about moving into our new apt. on November 1st and him getting a promotion. In an instant your life can change. His family and I buried Tommy at age 23 on October 31, 1982.
He went out after work at his job with coworkers for drinks after work on Columbus Day weekend. Tommy was 23 and one of his coworkers introduced him to some Wall Street stockbroker who was 35 and making big bucks. For whatever reason, they hit it off, I was told, love the same football and baseball teams, and he was also engaged. He lived in Staten Island, but offered to drive Tommy home to Brooklyn. This man who was 35 had just purchased a Maserati, which is a very expensive sports car. I am sure Tommy was excited when he seen it and that the guy was going to drive him home. Well, the man was going (according to newspaper) at over 100 mph into the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel and he lost control of his brand-new sports car (he had it less than a month) and car flipped over several times. Seat belts were not a law then so neither one of them had it on. Took firefighters and emergency crews almost 3 hours to get them out of car. I saw the photo in the news, and I am amazed that both of lived.
Tommy was in surgery for 17 hours. The doctors told us he kept asking for Anne Marie, but they had no idea who I was (and I didn’t have a phone in my apt. anyway). They told us he had been in surgery for 17 hours and they did not expect him to make it. The doctors said they were both talking when brought in and the doctors could smell the alcohol on both of them. He said it was because of the alcohol that at first, when brought to the hospital, that they were still talking and not yet feeling the pain. He was six foot three and husky but bc he did not have a seatbelt on he was tossed around in that car like a doll. The man did not have a seatbelt on, but the steering wheel acted like a barrier.
Tommy did not die that night. I was the first his work was able to contact so I was the first one at the hospital. I had no idea what “ICU” even meant so I walked into the room expecting him to be able to talk to me. I was not prepared for what I saw. He already looked dead. He was on a respirator and had a big tube going into his throat and these machines that kept going on and making this awful noise. His jaw was wired and almost every bone in his body was broken.
He did live through the night. As a matter of fact, he lived for three weeks after the accident. He could not talk bc of the respirator and I was sure he would be brain damaged, but he was not. He had one hand and he could write on a pad.
I seen him go from complete fear (he wrote down Am I going to die?). I then bought him a pair of rosary beads and he had 24-hour nurse care, but I always seen the same nurse because I just started a new job and had to go to hospital after work. She told me that every time she checked on him, he was praying on the rosary.
He “crashed” three times and we all rushed to the hospital expecting it to be the end. I saw him suddenly and he was very calm. He wrote down that he wanted everyone in his family and me to come in separately.
I didn’t get it yet. I mean he crashed three times (meaning that they said he was in blue code and was going to die) but it didn’t’ happen.
I went in and he wrote on a piece of the paper. I love you and you made me so very happy. I want you to know that but it’s time for me to go home. I got scared then because I thought OMG…he is having brain damage. He thinks he is going home soon. So, I told him No, you are not going home soon, you will have to stay in hospital for a while but eventually one day you will be getting out.
He shook his head vigorously in a no-no response and motioned for the pad. I gave it to him, and he wrote “I seen my mother last night. She was at the foot off my bed. I am going home with my mother. She is coming back for me.” I was puzzled and scared by what he was saying and NOT getting it.
The next day was a Saturday and I was getting ready to go to the hospital when his father called. He passed away that very night.
It took a few months and then everything fell into place for me. His sudden need to go to confession and go back to church three weeks before the accident happened. His absolute terror that he was going to die only to watch him praying and then be absolutely peaceful and calm. And his telling me that he had seen his deceased mother at the foot of his bed, and he was going home with her.
I realized that somehow God gave Tommy some kind of premonition about what laid ahead. It must have been strong enough for Tommy to, out of the blue, decide that he needed to go to confession, and starting going back to mass. His absolute fear when he woke up out of the coma and could not speak. His nurse told me he was in a tremendous amount of pain. Me giving him the rosary and his absolute calm and peacefulness during the last week and a half. His asking everybody to come in separately one by one. He had also asked for and was given the last rites.
I realized then that he did indeed see his mother who had died three years before and he was letting me know that he would be going “home” with her. (He specifically used the word home and from all I read people that are close to death mention seeing a close relative and talk of going”home.” We came from God so when we die, we are actually returning home. He died that very night when he told me earlier in the afternoon that he had seen his mother and was going home with her.
I was so angry at God. Until I realized the whole series of events that happened before, he died and realized what a blessing God gave us. Tommy just didn’t die instantly in the accident with us never getting to tell him how much we loved him and how much he loved us. God gave him and us the blessing for him to be able to say good-bye to everyone and that is a blessing. He was never able to speak bc of the respirator. But at the very end, he was at peace. I realized now he did see his mother and was ready to go ”home” with her. It took a while before the whole thing sunk in and I realized what I had been taught as a child but didn’t really believe. That there is a God, that he does love us and that we all return “home” and to make it easier, God sometimes sends somebody we love to bring us back home. I changed instantly. My thoughts about life, how we treat others, what is important and what is not, and that God is real and so is everything I was taught at school.
This isn’t just a Catholic thing. You can read stories who have been brought back from almost death and they will talk about going home and that they did not want to return to their physical form, but many were told they needed to as they were not finished yet. All faiths mention this. We may all pray different or have different beliefs in how we honor God, but all experience the same experience when very close to death.
So, I hope this makes some feel a little comfort and that death is not to be feared. I have no fear of death and expect and hope that Tommy will be the one to show up to take me home when it’s my time.
In case anybody is wondering, the man whose car it was that he had less than a month he was also severely injured. He was 35, Tommy was 23. He was getting married in less than four months. His injuries were serious but not as bad as Tommy because as the car flipped over several times the steering wheel held him in place. But his jaw was also wired like Tommy, but he was not on a respirator. When he was in the ICU and his family had to tell him Tommy died, he went crazy and ripped out the metal in his jaw that they had to wire shut. They had to tie him down in the bed and keep him restrained. His parents showed up at the funeral and told me he had taken a leave from work and was seeing a psychiatrist. I told them to tell him that I did not blame him. They were both drinking and if Tommy had his car there, I am sure Tommy would have offered to drive him home. The coworkers there felt awful that they did not stop either one of them from driving home knowing both were drunk. Back in those days, you would get a fine.
So, I hope that for some of you, this brings some comfort. For me it was the worse thing in my life, and I could not believe that God was taking him since so many people had died on me when I was young and went around to different homes. I thought God owed me this, Tommy and having a regular happy life. And yet even the worst times of our life can be turned to good because this is how God works. It changed me as a person, gave me strength I did not realize a I have no fear of death anymore because I know how it works now. I read the Bible and I get it. It used to be just nonsense to me. Now, I read it and I understand it. So, I don’t think or worry much about it because I know I will be going home also and expect that Tommy will be the one to come and bring me there.
My journey!
Overhead my onco being reprimanded last week. I am sure it was about me. Very long, venting. Feel free NOT to read.
Feeling low. Wind out of my sails
