by Ticia

Created on: December 30, 2009   Last Updated: January 01, 2010

I couldn’t have been more than 6 years old at the time and I clearly remember the details that surrounded this event in just one day of my very young life and I still wonder today – was it my fault?  I wonder. 

There were probably about 5 or 6 of us kids throwing around a football in the courtyard of our Bronx apartment building.  It was a very nice sunny day and we played there frequently.  We lived on the second floor of this building and our neighbors next door were a very old couple.  He was blind and she moved slowly but they got along well and were very pleasant people.   He had a collection of butterflies in glass cases that he spent a life time collecting only he couldn’t see them very well any more.   I would sometimes visit them in their apartment next door and look at some of the most beautiful butterflies I have ever seen.  I used to wonder how he caught them because they weren’t the kind of butterflies that you would see in the Bronx any where.  Yes I wondered.

I have so many cherished memories from my younger years in the Bronx but this day was one that I never cherished, only wondered with sadness and regret.  We were throwing the football around and Mrs. Pike was walking through the courtyard as we were playing.  The ball was being thrown to me and I had to catch it or else I would be out of the game.  She dropped some papers on the ground and all I could think about was helping her pick them up because she was old and struggling.  She attempted to bend down and instead of me catching the ball I bent down to get her papers thinking I was helping her.  The ball ended up hitting her because I wasn’t there to catch it and she fell.  All I could remember was seeing her fall to the ground, lying there and vomiting.  Before I knew it people were all around and the ambulance had arrived but it was too late because she had died.  I felt so guilty thinking that I caused this and I still wonder if I had caught that ball maybe she would have lived just a bit longer.  Still wonder.

I was so engulfed with guilt and being raised a Catholic and going to a parochial school I felt like I committed the worse sin and was surely going to hell.  From that day on I visited Mr. Pike every day and helped him however I could.  I used to polish his shoes and keep him company.  He was so appreciative and I never spoke a word about how I was feeling but I think he knew.  He couldn’t get along much by himself and I don’t recall what happened to him but I will always remember that day and I will always wonder, what if?  Still wondering….

I sometimes wonder about the events of that very sad day and although so many years have gone by, I will never forget this story.   I have found myself many years later going out of my way to be compassionate and helpful, especially when it comes to our elderly folk.  I don’t think twice about sacrificing my time to help someone in need.  Perhaps I feel as though I need to make these sacrifices to make up for some of that sad time as it still haunts me.   I often wonder if that compassion comes from the sadness of this day when as a small child I experienced the worse possible guilt, loss, pain and sorrow ever imaginable.  I will always wonder……..

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