Mom had to work a lot to support us, and chose to do so at night as a floor nurse, which meant she slept a lot during the day. Many a time we were not where we were supposed to be. Here’s what happened on the day in question. Poem can be found at: http://www.authspot.com/Poetry/Fishing-with-Big-Brother.525259.

My mom was asleep and my eleven year old oldest brother was supposed to be watching us, and I suppose he really tried, but we were an ornery lot and didn’t think we had to do a darn thing he said. My brother Tom and I were the closest in age, a little over eleven months apart, and I absolutely adored him. We grew up close to a lake and my brother was quite a fisherman. I was always wanting to go with him, and on this day, a cold day in January during a winter break, he was determined to go ice fishing. I begged to go along. And begged. And begged, and finally had to lend him my prize possession, a new fly fishing pole recently given to me by a doting grandfather who thought I should certainly be able to keep up with the boys. So off we went, a couple of blocks in the bitter cold out onto the ice, which we were of course told never to go out onto under ANY circumstances. Half the reason we were out there was because we were told not to go out on the ice under ANY circumstances. So off we go, bundled up and freezing before we even got to the waters edge.

My brother, thinker that he was, brought a saw for cutting a hole, as well as my pole (I had his less than perfect one-I loved that fishing pole, by the way, loved it more than objects should really be loved.) Tom starts cutting, I was dancing about next to where he was cutting, trying to stay warm, and, yep, you guessed it, the ice cracked. He jumped back, somehow managing to get the saw (the poles were left a little bit back or I would be mourning still), but I fell in. The water was not deep, but I was wet through, and SOOOOOOOOO cold. I literally, immediately, lost all feeling in my feet and hands, and starting shivering so badly I thought I would lose teeth. God bless him, my brother pulled me out, grabbed the poles, the saws, and dragged me home. (I don’t remember the walk home at all). He threw me into a warm shower, clothes and everything, all the while saying, “If you tell Mom, I swear I’ll KILL you. If you tell Mom, I swear I’ll Kill you.” Which is actually what one does when one has a sibling who is suffering from hypothermia, especially the kill you part. Nothing more motivating than a death threat sincerely spoken by an older sibling. I have never been so cold, before or since, and will hopefully live a long life without ever being so cold again. But, my brother saved my life and only he and I knew. And now my Mom. Don’t be mad Mom, and Tom’s in Texas. Sure. Come to Kansas to kill me. Bring it.