Go on without me

I have a lot of memories of my brother, Ken, most of them involving him punching me on the bicep and then me feeling bad if I hurt him back. But 2 memories stand out for me...both of them were times I believed he saved my life.

The first time I was in grade 2 so I must have been 8 and he was most likely 5.  We were playing by a creek on the way home from school when suddenly I fell in.  I remember screaming hysterically and flailing like a beached salmon.  Ken however, remained calm and passed me a long stick to grab onto.  Then he pulled me expertly to shore and my life was spared.  I was so thankful and for years I told people I met how my brother saved me that day.

Years later, I had the opportunity to revisit the creek.  It was actually nothing more than a large puddle and I probably could have avoided drowning by just rolling over and lying on my back.  That's how shallow it actually was.

The second time was when we were adults.  I was probably 34, which would make him 31.  We lived in northern BC and Ken had a job in the winter making a cross country ski trail.

I had only cross country skied once on my brand new skis and Ken asked if I wanted to go for a little ski with him.  He was anxious to try out the new trail and he asked if I thought I could handle it (8km out to a little chalet that had a wood burning stove inside).  I pictured a nice alpine scenario skiing beside my brother and then sipping hot chocolate by the stove before heading back.  I said sure and then got all geared up.

The trek started out okay.  It was a beautiful -20 C sunny day.  He skied in front and I cheerfully followed his tracks just a few metres behind.  On flat ground.  Then we came to a bit of a hill.  I tried not to think about it but the one and only time I'd tried downhill skiing kept flashing through my mind.  It wasn't a pleasant memory and I definitely didn't expect any hills on this trip.  I stopped.  Ken turned around and looked up at me from the bottom of the hill.  "Come on.  You can do it," he said.  I really doubted it, but I didn't want to disappoint him.  So I just did it.  And I almost made it down but there was a curve near the bottom and my skis wanted to keep going straight.  I tipped sideways into a snow bank.  Ken came to my rescue, hauling me out of the snow bank and helped me find my poles.  But from there things went downhill. 

My hands were frozen and I kept remembering someone telling me that grizzly bears don't hibernate.  I tried to keep up with him but I was starting to fade.  Then - just when I thought I couldn't go on, I heard him say, "I see the smoke from the chalet now.  It's not far."  That gave me the energy I needed to go on.

We got to the chalet just as some other people were leaving.  They waved cheerfully at us and told us to have fun.  Fun was me holding my wet mitts over the stove while trying to thaw out my hands.  Ken looked so healthy and rosy cheeked.  He reminded me of a Swiss ski instructor. 

I couldn't get my mitts dry but when he said, "We should start heading back.  It's getting dark,"  I quickly obeyed.  It took a few minutes to get our skis back on and by then my hands were cold again.  The trip back turned nasty right away.  I started falling every few metres and I couldn't feel my hands.  Ken kept helping me back up and told me to put my hands in my armpits to warm up.  That seemed to work but of course I had to stop skiing to do that and I kept falling....and falling.  Meanwhile it was getting darker and I kept thinking of those non-hibernating grizzly bears.  Ken meanwhile remained very patient but finally when I fell again and didn't have the strength to get up I said, "Just go on without me."  He laughed nervously and said, "Come on.  You can do it.  It's not too far now."

When we came to the hill that was now upward I fell again and just laid there exhausted and frozen.  I knew I wasn't making it out alive so I yelled as loud as I could,  "JUST GO on without me....I MEAN IT!!!"

Somehow we made it back and then we laughed about it for weeks. I told everyone how my brother saved my life (again)...

The memory of that story still makes me laugh, along with so many memories of my brother Ken.  But what doesn't make me laugh is the sudden realization that he did it.  On January 11th 2014....He went on without me.

 

 

My brother Ken in 2010