I have been wanting to share the story of my baby sister, Patricia Ann Spencer, for some time and today is that day!
Readers, I would like you to meet my little sister, Patty. I have no photos of what she looked like, although I am told by my Aunt Ruby and other family members that she looked just like me when I was born. đ What I do have are a few mementos tucked inside a box left to me by my mother. You see my sister only lived on this earth for 15 hours. I was only one and a half years old at the time so my only memories of her are those told to me by my parents and family members. But I can tell you without a doubt that I know her and she knows me. Ever since I was about five years old I have felt her. She is mostly with me when I am writing. She is like my cheerleader, my muse, and my best friend. When I drop down into the space where my imagination comes out and I start writing or typing words on a page, she is beside me. In fact, she is with me now as I write this eagerly awaiting what I am going to say about her. The thought brings both tears to my eyes and a smile to my face and heart.
To my sweet baby sister, here is your story as I know itâŚ
You were born, Patricia Ann Spencer on Friday, August 19, 1960, to young parents, Richard Ray and Gloria Jean Spencer at Barberton Citizens Hospital in Barberton, OH. Shortly after you were born the doctors determined that you were having complications from being what they called an âRH Factorâ baby. You were in pretty bad shape so they had to rush you to Childrenâs Hospital in Akron for a blood transfusion. In those days, when a baby was very sick, they would not let the mother hold their babies. Their reasoning was that if the baby was to die, it would be easier on the mother if she hadnât bonded with their baby (I am so glad, they have since come to their senses about that!).
Sadly, you didnât make it and it tore Mom and Dad to pieces. Especially Mom. Growing up I always received extra love and hugs because of you. Not a bad thing at all, but I always knew there was a piece of our mom that was very sad. She moved on but you were always with her. Especially on your birthday. She would tell me about those 15 hours and how they were the worst in her entire life and how her arms ached to hold you.
The day before our mom passed away, I remember sitting on her hospital bed, it was just she and I. I was dipping a sponge stick into a cup of coffee and lifting it to her mouth so she could suck the coffee out. She loved coffee but her lungs were failing and that was the only safe way she could enjoy the coffee. As we were enjoying our last moments together, our last âcoffee timeâ, she started giving me instructions about what to do after she was gone, like taking care of Dad and making sure that he continued to go camping because he loved it so much. She paused when she was finished and then she looked at me with sparkles in her eyes and said, âSherry, I am finally going to be able to hold your sister Patty!â I hugged her and tears ran down my face. She was so happy and while I knew she was going to miss us, seeing you was something she had longed for since the day she said goodbye to you. My time with her was coming to a close and yours was just beginning. Somehow it made it a little easier to say goodbye. I could say that I wish I had been there to see your reunion and her holding you for the first time, but I think I was. God, allowed me a window into heaven when you were placed in Momâs arms the moment she got there. I saw it in my dreams as I laid on the couch after she had passed. I even drew a picture of what I saw so I wouldnât forget the vision. Perhaps Iâll share it with readers on your next birthday. đ
For now, I want your story to be shared with the world.
A note about the photos:
These are a few of the items that my mom left in her box of memories that told the world Patty existed. At the time of her death, my parents were young teenagers without a lot of money, so they couldnât afford to buy a grave marker. As they grew older and could afford it, I assume that it was too hard for them to relive. This always bothered me. Although she didnât spend much time on this earth, she deserved to have a marker that told the world she was here. So, on December 2, 2018, my husband and I had Pattyâs grave marker installed. It was my birthday present to her that year.
Thank you for allowing me to share my sister with all of you. I hope you enjoy it!
Copyright 2021 Sherry Carnahan
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