Death in the Family

DEATH IN THE FAMILY

            My brother Dick died at the end of April. It was unexpected. He had a rare lung condition that was slowly progressive. Still, everyone thought that he had a few more years.

            Dick entered the hospital unexpectedly in late April. The situation was amenable to treatment, and the plan was for him to be discharged within five days. Instead, he began to decline. When I awoke on April 29, I found an email from my sister-in-law, Linda, saying that Dick had taken a turn for the worse.

            I contacted the Peace Corps office. The staff told me that I would be sent home as soon as Dick’s doctor contacted Peace Corps medical in Washington to verify the situation. I relayed that information to Linda, and she arranged for a call between the medical people later in the day. Meanwhile, I tried to call my brother from my cell phone. It is expensive, and I ran out of pre-paid airtime while waiting for a nurse to connect the call. I had to buy more airtime, and eventually I did get a chance to speak with him. He was struggling for breath, but he was lucid, and we exchanged some words. Mostly, I told him to hang in there until I got home.

            First thing on April 30, the Peace Corps office called me to say that both Stephanie and I had been authorized to take emergency leave. The office said I could depart that same day if plane reservations were available. I was out of town when I got the call. I rushed home by combi, calling ahead to Stephanie to get us packed. When I arrived, we had about an hour to close up the house and get to a mini-bus that would take us to the capital, Gaborone. When we got there, we dashed to the Peace Corps office. A staffer was finishing up the airplane reservations. As soon as the tickets got nailed down, we caught a lift to the airport for what became a grueling series of flights: Gaborone to Johannesburg, Johannesburg to Atlanta and Atlanta to Boston.

            When we finally arrived at Logan Airport midday on May 1, exhausted and stressed out, we found our daughter waiting for us at the curb, with tears in her eyes. Dick had died later in the day on April 30, while we were en route.

            Before we departed for the Peace Corps in September 2012, we told friends and family that we did not plan to come home until we finished our service in November 2014. We added that if we were to come home, it would not be for a happy reason. And so it came to pass.

            Our two-week visit home was a mixture of high and low: the sad business of burying my brother and many welcome meetings with family and friends.

            Now we are back in Botswana, making the most of our remaining months of service. We are grateful that Peace Corps acted so promptly in arranging for our emergency trip home. Stephanie lost her grandmother while serving in Kenya in the Peace Corps in the 1970s. She did not travel home then: the policy covers only immediate family. One last thought. This entire episode reinforced in me the importance of living our lives fully, which is a major reason why we joined Peace Corps. Carpe diem.