Joey

My mother's youngest sister had 3 boys; they were as different as night, day and pancakes. Joey, the youngest, was the most special. He was the most sensitive and had the most unusual sense of humor. He died in a car crash in his forties.

We were inseparable as children. One day while my family was visiting his family in town (we lived out on a farm, at least 45 minutes away), Joey and I decided to go on an adventurous journey through the neighborhood. No one noticed that we had left, since the grown-ups were indoors having a splendid time talking about things they thought were important. Joey and I visited all of his neighbors. One neighbor was an only child. He was rich and had a maid. We played with his toys until he started crying because he didn't like to share. We left and went to another neighbor's house, Jan, who made homemade snowcones and we marveled at the different colors even though they all tasted the same - pure sugar. All revved up from the sugar, we journeyed along to many places, having much fun.

When we returned, the grown-ups had stopped having fun and were waiting for us. They all looked so worried and angry. I guess we forgot to tell them that we were leaving. Joey's father made him go pick a switch off a tree or bush, as was his usual punishment, and whipped him in front of everyone. Joey slinked away and hid, humiliated and angry. My father only had only to frown at me and I cried.

Joey was an extremely sensitive child whose spirit was broken at a very young age. He was dyslexic and back then dyslexia was not a "diagnosed" problem; everyone made fun of him. Joey and I used to make fun of life and laugh all the time. My mom and my aunt would drive us around and we would laugh nonstop - they would look at us with perplexed expressions but were happy that we were entertaining ourselves. Many years went by and I saw Joey less and less. When I did see him, he was hanging around boys who were not always making decisions based on common sense. But very few boys that I knew then made wise decisions, to my recollection, as is the state of being a young adolescent.

Joey got married very young and had a beautiful child who was born with a hole in her heart and needed more than one operation in her young life. He was drinking a lot back then, as were we all at that fun-filled river summer place, and he and his wife used to argue a lot. They separated and later divorced. Joey was always so proud of his daughter. I wasn't around much then, and later I left for good to go to college. Joey continued to drink a lot and I felt a hole in my heart, missing the young Joey that I grew up with who was so psychologically bright, sensitive and creative. He seemed to not care about himself anymore. I got to see him about a month before he died that evening in the car crash. His eyes were such a bright blue and he looked so alert...not like the Joey I had come to know. I thought, at that time, that I would get part of him back, but that is not how it played out.

I always wondered how his daughter managed with the very special father she had, who was not the typical father role model. I hear she has her own baby now and I want her to know that her father was just too special for this world. I hope to spend some time with her and her family one day, should I ever get a proper vacation in my hometown.