I don't begrudge other people having fun today, but Valentine's Day isn't for me. It is a very special day but not in the happy sense, and it will never be a day of celebration.
62 years ago today, my big sister, the first born in our family of seven, died in a tragic car accident with two other young girls, both teenagers as well. The driver survived, only to die in a tragic boat accident, decades later.
Thousands of people attended the funerals in our small Canadian prairie town of 10,000 souls. Schools were closed. Some businesses as well. The community mourned such an unthinkable, devastating loss.
It was February 14th 1964 and she was sweet 16. I was 3.
The driver had a new snazzy convertible and wanted to go for a joyride so he asked the girls, freshly released at the end of the school day, if they wanted to hop on board. My sister Linda was one of them, my other sister Dale, who was 2 years younger said she wanted to walk home. (I just found this out today. She was 14 years old and had never told anybody until today. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it. It's almost a blessing in one way I suppose, that mom didn't know this. Knowing that she was so close to losing two of her four (at the time) daughters would have been too cruel. But my sister never got a chance to deal with that trauma. I'm sure it has affected her, and my other siblings, in so many ways on so many levels. How could it not? I know it affected me and I only have one fuzzy memory of my late sister! I didn't share a bedroom with her in our house and grow up with her.)
They headed out of town to hit the highway, driving right past my dad's service station where he probably saw them pass as he pumped gas...and they somehow didn't see the school bus unloading children on the side of the road and drove right into its rear, jamming the car partially under it.
I don't know any more details other than my sister's coffin was closed during the funeral, which is not customary in the Ukrainian Greek Orthodox Church. Open casket is always our way. That hurt my parents even more. Not being able to say goodbye properly in their deeply personal, traditional way.
So. I was the youngest, don't remember Linda and wasn't even at the funeral. And yet, the loss still affects me. Not sure why. Perhaps it's my strong pull towards family and my passion for history. Or, as my husband days, maybe it's because I'm an old softie and drenched in sentimentality. Regardless of which hits true, I faithfully put her school photo, one of only four pictures of her the family has, on my mantelpiece and light a candle. Seems like the right thing to do. Makes me happy. Sad-happy.
Her passing changed us all in some way, and it definitely changed the way my parents parented. My father who was usually pretty involved and vocal in raising his children, became a disciplinary mute. Any chastisements were handled through my mom. If he had something to say he would pass it through her. This is mainly because my sister and he had a blowout fight over her not being able to go to a Valentine's Day dance (she had to babysit me.) They argued and then never had the chance to make up. My father never wanted to suffer that mistake again.
And I never let my children leave our house in anger. Ever.
From texts, I just learned today that my sister and brother who were 7 and 10 respectively, had a few memories too that I'd never heard before too. They'd never shared their memories either. Nobody ever spoke about the accident as none of us wanted to upset mom and dad. We never asked questions about Linda or her short life.
What a pity! I'll always regret being too late in breaking that shell of sorrowful reflection. It would have been both cathartic I think, and wonderful to 'know' Linda through stories.
I am grateful that we are now at a societal age where we can speak openly about our grief and seek professional help. Where counselling is readily available and quickly offered to everyone even remotely involved or affected by trauma.
I only wish my family would have had that Saving Grace during their Time.
RIP Linda Elaine.❤️
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