Corey, The Amazing Super-Hero of Our Family (Part I)

While it often makes me sad to think of my son and how much I miss him, in honor of his birthday next week, I want to tell you a few stories about him so you can see what made him so special to us.

It all began with an unplanned pregnancy the summer before my senior year of high school. It was 1977, and people had mixed opinions on single mothers back then. Where I lived in rural Minnesota, however, people were mostly conservative and there were those who felt it their duty to enforce a moral code over everyone else. One woman even called my mother to tell her not to allow me out in public for fear of my influencing other young women to follow suit. Even though I'm sure it pained her to have people talking about her and her family, needless to say, my mother told her to mind her own business. I attended classes my senior year with everyone else only because there was no way they could stop me. The high school principal had strongly suggested I seek home schooling or simply drop out as so many had done before me. I refused. I was actually going to attend classes in my "condition" and it caused more than a small amount of commotion. I remember one day in December of that year when sitting in history class, there were more classmates chuckling at the movements of my belly than actually paying attention to the teacher. My friends stuck by me and we all learned from the experience together.

He was born on a Tuesday morning with my mother right next to me the whole time. He was perfect. Flowers arrived from nearly everyone I could imagine. I knew that my decision to be a mom at such a young age was affecting everyone around me, and having their love and support through it all was a blessing. As I finished high school that spring, Corey became a sort of mascot for my friends as we prepared to move into our adult lives. He was very much loved.
Corey was the kind of kid who loved to explore and learn. Thank god I was young enough to keep up with him! When he was awake, he was on full speed until he got too tired to hold his eyes open and would fall asleep wherever he was whether it was in the middle of dinner or crawling down the hall. He loved clearing out my cabinet of pots and pans to climb in to hide, or crawl under the table with the table cloth hanging down so I couldn't find him. At my parents house he would hide in the dryer or under my father's desk and try to scare you when you came by.

When Trisha came along, he was the best brother you could imagine. He owned that little girl. She was HIS sister. Nobody was ever going to mess with her on his watch. He would get up every morning and climb into her crib to entertain her. I could hear them laughing hysterically from the kitchen and it was music to my ears. From the day she was born, my daughter was smitten with her big brother. As they grew, he took her everywhere with him and taught her how to do everything he knew how to do, from tying shoes and buttoning shirts to spitting for distance and driving a car. When they were little, I always had a rule that the house had to be cleaned up before bed time. Corey was very good at following this rule, but as Trisha got older, she became more of a hindrance to the processes because she didn't want to stop playing, so Corey would drag her out of the room and close the door on her so he could get all the toys picked up and put away. She would cry next to the door until he finished and when he came out of the room, he would give her a big hug and take her with him to get their teeth brushed. (To this day, Trisha blames Corey for the fact that she hates to clean.)

It's kind of ironic that Corey was so smart and everything seemed to come easy to him, yet he didn't just coast through life, rather, he looked for the challenges and seemed to always want to do more and learn more. It's like he felt like he didn't deserve to get anything for nothing and if it came without a price, he didn't want it. He learned to read at an early age and math was never a problem. He was easily bored and was always looking for adventure. One of his favorite authors was Jack Kerouac, and Corey always admired the free-spirited exploration depicted in books. From a young age, Corey had wanted to be an astronaut and his hunger for knowledge combined with a sense of wanting to save the world is what made him our super-hero. He stuck up for the underdogs, was great with kids, had an infectious laugh, and didn't pass judgment on anyone. In spite of all his faults, he served his country and was definitely one of the good guys.

I miss my baby who twisted my hair in his tiny fingers when I held him, my little boy who would laugh and play with abandon, my teenager who always had a trick up his sleeve, my son who I couldn't have been more proud of. I often forget he's no longer just a phone call away. The times when I need help with the computer, or setting up a new electronic product, or just to talk politics and religion are the times I reach for the phone and remember he's not there. It was my job as a mom to protect him from the world and I failed. No second chances. But he made an impact and that's what's important. People who knew him will remember him - not only for what made him special to them, but also for teaching us how quickly it can all be gone and we need to appreciate everything we have while we have it. Even super-heroes don't live forever, but his memory will go on for generations. Corey will not be easily forgotten.