Welcome to Spiritual Journey Thursday. We are a group of poets and writers who gather once a month to write about our spiritual journeys. This month is hosted by Bob Hamera, who suggests we write about attitude. Since I missed last month, I'm combining his prompt with my One Little Word. I have chosen REMEMBER to guide me throughout 2026.
Thanks to Margaret Simon for this beauty!
I missed writing last month because my brother Erwin died two days prior. Although Erwin was 95, I was not expecting such news. I knew he had not been able to call me for several years but he was doing well in a nursing care. I knew his sense of humor was intact when I heard that one of the caregivers thought he was adorable. I imagined him rolling his eyes and smiling his most charming smile. I had a good laugh over that.
Erwin, known as Ervin at home, Sam at work
Of my six brothers, perhaps I spent less time with Ervin than most others. (We called him Ervin, though that wasn't his proper name. His wife called him Erv.) He was grown and out of the house by the time my memory kicked in. I saw him on special occasions. Still, I remember him laughing. He was always ready with a joke, a smile, a timely remark.
Ervin loved cars and worked his way up to Superintendent of Fisher Body plants in Janesville and Detroit. At work he was "Sam." Co-workers said Sam was a fair boss, and I'm proud of that. Like Jay Leno, he knew everything you needed to know about cars. He was also generous and handy at fixing our various scrapes and dents.
A favorite family story took place at my parents' home in Omaha. It was the summer my father had a leg amputated and Ervin had come to help ease the shock. The mood at home was subdued, the neighborhood quiet. Daddy had been moved to the screen porch to get some fresh air.
Neighbors across the street, a German grandmother, mother, and daughter Diane, had bought a car now that Diane was old enough to drive. Neither mom nor grandma drove. Diane and I were close in age, but she was a sheltered only child and I was Number Nine. When we were 6 or 7 and got clunky metal roller skates, she was only allowed one at a time. You may laugh, but I'm not kidding. Coordination wasn't her strength. And now she had a car. How would it go?
Learning to drive was challenge enough, but mom and grandma would give advice even though they had no experience. It seems we heard them say "Turn the back wheels!" That may be fantasy, but you get the idea.
On this particular day all three women got in the car. Diane had to back the car out of her garage and turn it around in order to drive forward into the street. I imagine her maneuvering back and forth, this way and that, trying to get pointed in the right direction while mom and grandma urged one thing and another. No doubt Diane got flustered or put her foot on the wrong pedal, but in any event she suddenly plowed across the alley and into the neighbor's garage. CRASH!!!
All three sat in the car, motionless. Stunned. The storm windows that had been stored in the rafters of that garage fell on their car, and the walls of the garage buckled around them.
My family ran to the windows, then stepped outdoors to see what had happened. Probably they all sucked in their breath when they saw the garage crumpled around Diane's car. But Ervin went over, undaunted. He had seen plenty of accidents on the factory floor. He would deal with it. He looked into the car, heard no moaning, saw no blood, so he opened the door as if a chauffeur, and asked most politely, "Would you ladies like to get out?"
Daddy went outdoors for the first time since his operation. What he saw struck him funny. Nobody was hurt, and the comedy with Ervin was too much. He couldn't get the smile off his face if he wanted to. For him, the garage demolition became a total attitude adjustment!
I'm a little sad to say that I was at camp when all this happened, but the story lives in my mind's eye nevertheless. What a spectacle it must have been. I wish I could have seen their faces. For years you couldn't tell this story at our house without everyone doubling over with laughter.
The story didn't end, of course. Before the summer was over Diane had plowed down a long section of her grandma's cyclone fence as well. I missed that too.
But most of all, Ervin, I will miss you. I already do. And I will remember!
Will the circle be unbroken
By and by Lord, by and by
There's a better home awaiting
In the sky Lord, in the sky.
Thanks for reading, and thanks to Bob for hosting today. You can find his post HERE. Look for links to others in the group on Bob's page.
