This is an old post…it has now been more than nine years since my brother died. But today is David’s birthday, and he’s been occupying my thoughts for several days. It seems like the right time for a repeat.
There’s a story in my family that my brother, David, was given nine lives.
Speaking to David about his many misadventures, and later to his friends and other siblings, I would have had to place that number closer to twenty.
There was the sledding accident that broke long bones and left him chair-bound for months. The fight that resulted in a broken jaw. Riding home at night on a bicycle, David was hit by a car. Once “road-surfing” on the roof of a van, he took a nasty fall onto the pavement. There was a fall from a roof. There were several near-drowning incidents on Lake Nepessing, in all seasons of the year.
Once, walking home on the side of a narrow road, someone opened a car door as they went by, knocking David into a pole, then into the lagoon. He crawled out of the water covered with cuts…
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