I’ll try to post a multi-month roundup at some point, to kind of summarize what’s been going on since January, but in the meantime just wanted to post something to describe that Tuesday two years ago when I learned about what had happened to my brother.
I was about to head off to lunch; it felt like any other Tuesday. One of Chris’s coworkers sent me a message on Facebook, wondering why Chris never showed up to work. Texted Chris, called him, no answer. Chris’s coworkers quickly discovered the WOAI news story about an accident involving a motorcycle the night before, and determined the motorcyclist was indeed at University Hospital… and most likely Chris.
I can’t describe how badly I started shaking when I saw the photo from the scene of the accident. It was definitely Chris’s bike.
I couldn’t get a hold of my parents – they were already in the air, flying to Texas for a weekend in San Antonio as a family. Memorial Day weekend.
Chris’s coworkers gave me a number for a nurse in the STICU at University Hospital, I told her I was on the way.
I couldn’t control the shaking as I wobbled the two mile motorcycle ride home from work; the drive to San Antonio from Austin was a blur. It rained torrentially all the way there.
