The Question of the Day.
Today like most days working with Elias, there is a question of the day. Most days they are funny or out of the left field. Today, however, was different. The question, If you could obtain the ability to have the knowledge of ONE specific career, what would it be?
Most answers were boarder line funny, or from dreams. For instance, being a ship captain. Not today's ship captain, but the captains of yester-years, Pirate captain. For Elias he couldn't even answer his own question. He being a musician, I would have assumed he would want to be a pro. Myself on the other hand knew exactly what I would obtain.
I would obtain the knowledge to be an Neurologist. From the time people start to ask, "What do you want to be when you grow up?", I knew what I wanted to be, a 'Brain Doctor'. The most logical reason for me to want to be this kind of doctor, and to be so set in my way at such a young age, I give to having the sister, Whitney, I had.
Not many people know this, mostly because I don't share it as openly as I used to. But, I had a sister. My sister wasn't the typical older sister. Whitney was one of eight in the world. I say that very set in my words. Whitney couldn't do the simple things we take for granted every day. She couldn't walk, talk, shoot she couldn't eat solid foods. She had a feeding tube, and hip displacement, 'Grand maul seizures' on a regular basis. Even through all of this, my sister was the person I looked up to.
It was hard having friends growing up with a sister like Whitney. First they give you the look like 'Oh My Gah! You're starving her.' You tell them not to worry, 'she's been like that forever.' The kids will try to adjust to having such an attraction around, you will play and have a good time until the seizures start. You then again have to let them know there is nothing to worry about, that 'the screaming will subside in a few minutes.' It was almost impossible to have a sleep over. Kids couldn't handle it, I think most of them thought what my sister had was contagious. I never had a problem with how Whitney was. I loved to play with, well on her. I would braid her hair, or read her a story. I would tell myself that when I asked her questions she would blink for yes, when in reality that was next to impossible. My sister, ugh I keep typing my sister. It's always been hard to say or type her name. Whitney died when I was 10 years old. I didn't come out of my room that night, or the next day. I didn't cry until the funeral, and not until the pastor man read the note I wrote to her. I didn't go in to see her, or say goodbye before she was cremated. I thought what I was doing was making it easier on myself. I'll let you know if losing a sibling gets easier when or if it ever does.
I look back now and think that, if only I would have been more focused, I would be on my way to becoming the doctor I once wanted to be. That darn question of the day, made me think that it's too late. But at the same time is it ever really too late. I don't believe I want to be a Neurologist anymore. It would only make me want to search for something in my past, to maybe, just maybe know what it was my sister had. And was it preventable, or curable even. I'll never know. In better words, I don't want to know. What I do know is that I had the greatest sister anyone could ever ask for. The most amazing growing experiences any child could ever be given. All because Whitney was one of eight in the world.
It's quite bizarre how a simple question, like 'the one of the day,' can make you think of so many things, past, future and present.