Split Second

iUniverse, Inc.

Chapter One

When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. Billy Crystal

We met on a hot August day in 1986 in a little neighborhood sports bar where I had been bartending for a couple of years. As I opened the door at 11:30 a.m., a few construction linemen who were working in the area were ready for their lunch break. I was immediately attracted to the handsome curly-haired, bearded gentleman who ordered a hamburger with mayonnaise. I promptly told him that we do not serve mayo on burgers in this bar. Here they are eaten with ketchup! When he realized I was joking, we both laughed, and that was the beginning of our friendly conversations.

Since he was working close by, He started coming in regularly, and I looked forward to seeing him. He was easy to talk to and not too bad to look at either, especially with those ocean-blue eyes and coal-black beard. We talked about our families, and I learned that he'd grown up in Denville, New Jersey, was the oldest of two sons, and sadly, both of his parents were deceased. Two years after he and wife married, they relocated to California, bought a house in San Clemente, and he found a job at the power company. They never had children, so when his twenty-year marriage ended, he left his job and joined the IBEW (International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers), which brought him to Connecticut. Since he had traveled all over the United States and had never heard of this town, he decided to accept the work in our growing community.

I told him I had grown up with a strict Italian father and three younger siblings. My brothers Richard and Michael were three and ten years younger, respectively, and my sister Debra arrived when I was approaching thirteen. I was married at the age of nineteen, my daughter was born when I was thirty, and I was forty-two when I became a single mom.

One evening we went out for coffee and realized how much we enjoyed each other's company. After dating a short time, we knew we wanted this relationship to last. I introduced him to my daughter, and we began including her in many of the things we did. Introducing him to my parents was another matter, especially my father, who thought Ray was taking advantage of me and called him a "drifter." My brother Dick, who became very fond of Ray, told my father that Ray was serious and eventually wanted to marry me. After that, Ray was like one of the family.

We had a short courtship and got married on August 2, 1987, the one-year anniversary of the day we met, with my daughter as my maid of honor. Even though she was only twelve, I wanted to include her in this important event. She understood that just because there was a new man in my life, she was still very special. I also talked with Ray, letting him know that Gina and I were a package deal, and he promised a great future for the three of us. When Gina and I went shopping for my wedding dress and her maid of honor dress, we had a great afternoon together. It was difficult choosing between so many gorgeous dresses, but in the end we must have made the right decision, because we were both told we looked beautiful. My niece Dina wanted to be in the wedding, so she was the ring bearer. We purchased a dress exactly like Gina's for her, and the two looked like little angels.

We were married at my parents' home with only immediate family and a few close friends in attendance, and then we left for our honeymoon. After flying into Reno, Nevada, we rented a car and drove along the coast from Reno to Los Angeles where we stayed for a few days at my cousin David's home and had an absolutely wonderful time. Next, Ray took me to meet the men he had worked with at the power company. We joined them in a bar, which I quickly learned was where linemen tended to hang out. He introduced me to sushi in Malibu and took me to his favorite Mexican restaurant in San Clemente. We shopped in San Juan Capistrano and saw the cable cars in San Francisco. We drove through the quaint town of Carmel, where Clint Eastwood was mayor. I gambled, playing poker in a casino in Reno—and won! We had a fabulous ten days, but I was eager to get home to my daughter and start my new life.

Once back home, we settled in quite comfortably and I learned what a wonderful cook Ray was. He enjoyed cooking foods for me, many of which I had never even heard of. I remember when he asked me if I had a wok. I had no idea what he was referring to, but it became one of our most used kitchen utensils. I also liked to cook, so most of our time together was spent in the kitchen. On Gina's thirteenth birthday, she had several friends over, and Ray made cheese fondue for a bread dip and chocolate fondue to dip strawberries. None of them had had fondue before, so it was a big hit! Surprisingly, Gina liked many of the new foods Ray cooked, which frequently contained garlic, onions, and everything hot and spicy.

The first time he made spaghetti sauce, I was amazed at the amount of onions and garlic he used—enough to fill half the pot. It certainly did the trick because the sauce was out of this world. One evening when he was cooking, my parents stopped by and our house reeked of garlic. My father said, "That's the way a house should smell!" Ray also made martinis better than anyone I know, and his margaritas were to die for. Boy, do I miss those drinks.

Many evenings when he served dinner, he lit candles on the table or added a vase of beautiful flowers, and there was always a glass of great-tasting wine.

Gina moved out when she was twenty, and a few weeks later I started feeling depressed and out of sorts. After I got over my empty-nest syndrome though, Ray and I became accustomed to life without Gina. A few years later, she decided to move to her boyfriend's home state of Minnesota. I cried for days. I was planning on seeing her off but was so sad about her leaving that I could not go to say good-bye. Ray was so supportive and tried to make it a little easier for me by cooking a wonderful dinner the day she left. He even went out that night and brought back my favorite treat—pistachio ice cream. For the next couple of years, every time Gina had to leave after being home for a visit, I cried. The first year she was gone, we drove out to Minneapolis to spend part of the Christmas holiday with her. When it was time for me to leave, I couldn't stop the tears. As the years went on, I learned to live without her being near, and the good-byes got a little easier.

Ray did not like to fly, so we did all our traveling by car. Our first cross-country trip was in 1989. Ray enjoyed showing me the country he loved, and that trip was one of the greatest experiences of my life and the one I treasure the most. It was an amazing drive, being alone with the person you love, with no interruptions, just relaxing and enjoying the sights. What a luxury!

We drove to California a few times, to my aunt's in Arizona, to my daughter's in Minneapolis, to a resort in the Rockies in Colorado, to Ray's relatives in Wyoming, where we also visited Yellowstone National Park. Closer to home, we traveled to New Jersey to visit more of Ray's relatives. We've often said that we're so glad we traveled to those wonderful places instead of waiting until after retirement, like so many people do. Our last road trip was in May 2004, when we went to Arizona to celebrate my Aunt Rainey's eightieth birthday. Of course, at the time we had no idea it would be our last.

Several years after we were married, I wrote this article about what I was thankful for at Thanksgiving. It appeared in our local newspaper.

It Just Doesn't Get Better Than This

I am especially thankful this year because I feel that I have accomplished the one thing that I never thought was possible for me—a job that I love with a great salary. Some of the people I work with have become very special to me, and I know will be for the rest of my life. During my 56 years, there have been a few friends that have endured the ups and downs of my life's journey, which at times were turbulent. Knowing that these special friends were there when I needed them gives me a very warm feeling inside.

As everyone knows, however, happiness begins at home. I feel very lucky that my elderly parents are healthy and happy and were able to provide the foundation for me to become the well-adjusted person that I feel I am. They also gave me two wonderful brothers and a sister whom I adore. Together we have contributed many wonderful additions to this already "perfect" family. My contribution is a beautiful daughter who has grown into a woman who makes me burst with pride at her accomplishments. Last but not least, I have the love of a wonderful man, my husband, who tells me every day, how very much he loves me

This is a special year to be thankful because I feel that it can't get better than this.

In 2003, we decided it was time to move out of the rented condo we lived in and buy our own place. We looked at several properties and decided to purchase a condo. Neither of us liked yard work, and in hindsight a condo was the perfect choice. Ray went to an open house at a new development one Sunday while I was working, liked what he saw, and made an appointment for me to see it. The kitchen won me over! Since it's our favorite room and most of our time is spent there, it wasn't too difficult to imagine us cooking our favorite meals in that great big kitchen. How ironic that Ray would fall in the room he loved best.

We moved in on December 19, 2003, and Gina flew in from Minnesota on December 23. We had our traditional family gathering on Christmas Eve. Everyone loved our new place, even though we still had a lot of boxes to unpack. Of course there was a room for Gina, with a beautiful new queen-size bed and her own bathroom.

Since my workday ended at 8:30 p.m., the only time Ray and I had a meal together was on my days off. Those two days were very special to us, and we looked forward to them each week. Our routine was for him to fix me one of his famous margaritas, which I would enjoy while sitting at the computer and reading e-mails while he cooked our dinner. Once in a while he would create some exotic hors d'oeuvre to accompany the margarita.

Those days only lasted nine months. Our condo was brand new and we were full of ideas as to how we were going to finish decorating each room. Those rooms are still waiting.

Chapter Two

... stepping from the known to the unknown. George Shinn

It was a routine Saturday. Ray worked until about two in the afternoon and then went to his favorite gathering place, a quaint lounge he had discovered months earlier.

After some friendly conversation and his favorite cocktail, he went home and made a stir-fry for dinner. When he finished eating, he cleaned up the kitchen and then called me at Mohegan Sun Casino, where I'd been working for the past six years, to say he was going to relax on the couch and read his book until I got home. That's where I found him when I walked through the door at 9:00 p.m. We talked for a while, and then I picked up my soap opera magazine and began reading too. Approximately a half hour later, he went into the kitchen to get two spoons and a half gallon of ice cream, which was one of our favorite treats. As usual, we consumed more than we should have, remarking about the calorie intake while trying to convince ourselves that it also contained ingredients that were good for us. Ray put the remainder back in the freezer and said he was tired and was going up to bed. I asked him to stay with me just a while longer, so he sat back down, pretended to read his book, and fell asleep.

Approximately an hour later I finished my magazine and decided to call it a day. Ray was sleeping peacefully, so I left him there and went upstairs, thinking of that nice big king-size bed I would have all to myself. Little did I know that I would never sleep with him again in that bed, or any other bed. Since that night I've told people never to wish for something because it may just come true!

I was brushing my teeth when I was startled by what sounded like a thud. I listened for a few seconds, but hearing nothing more, I continued brushing. When I finished, I thought I should investigate, so I walked down the stairs. Ray was not on the couch where I had left him, so I softly called his name.

"Sandra, I'm in here," he answered.

I walked into the kitchen, but couldn't see him because of the counter divider we recently had installed. "Where are you?" I asked. When he answered, "Over here," I looked around the corner by the kitchen sink. He was lying on his back on the floor.

"What the hell are you doing down there?" I asked.

He said he'd woken up and gone into the kitchen to get some orange juice. As he lifted the container and tipped his head back to take a sip, he fell backward and landed flat on his back. He asked me to help him up. I grabbed his hand, but he immediately said, "Forget it. Call 911 and tell them I just fell and broke my neck and I'm paralyzed."

Stunned, I asked, "How do you know you broke your neck?"

"Because I heard it snap!"

The paramedics arrived immediately. A neighbor, who happened to be a nurse, came running as soon as she saw the ambulance approaching our condo. She assisted as they put a neck brace on him and pricked his body with a needle, trying to determine a loss of sensation. At that point, he had no feeling below the "nipple" line, and he muttered, "I'm going to be just like Superman." Another neighbor hurried over. She stayed with me until Ray was in the ambulance and on the way to the hospital. We followed in her car, and I called my parents, my brother Dick, and my sister Debby, that Ray had fallen and I was with my neighbor following the ambulance and would they come as soon as they could. My brother Mike was on vacation and found out the following day. Coincidentally, my daughter was visiting us from Minneapolis, en route to a friend's wedding in Maine. At the time of the accident she was at another friend's party and planned to spend the night. Naturally, my call upset her. She wanted to come to the hospital to be with me, but I assured her I was not alone. I didn't want her driving at that hour; it was now approaching midnight.

After arriving at the hospital, we waited for about an hour until we were allowed in to see Ray. The image of him will be with me forever! He had a contraption on his head that was screwed into his skull, and those beautiful blue eyes of his followed me around the room as the doctor showed me the X-rays and told me in a tone I will never forget: "He's paralyzed." It was a good thing my brother was there, because all the life went out of me, and he caught me as I fell into a chair.

"His paralysis is at C4/C5," the doctor said, which meant nothing to me at that time.

The nurse asked me what that pink stuff was that they had pumped out of his stomach. I realized it was the cherry vanilla ice cream we had devoured about two hours earlier!

The same nurse took me aside and told me that from now on our lives would never be the same. I would have a rough road ahead of me. She said, after Ray realizes the extent of his injury, he isn't going to want to live. He's going to feel sorry for himself and wonder, Why me? She was right about our lives never being the same. However, she was not right about Ray feeling sorry for himself. For reasons unknown, he has never been depressed about his situation.

He's a remarkable man, and I'm so proud of him. He's never complained, and believe me, with what he endures daily, he has every right! I've had to turn away many times so he wouldn't see the tears in my eyes. I keep thinking to myself, If there's a God up there, why would a wonderful man like Ray have to go through such an ordeal? The simplest things that people take for granted, like brushing their teeth or picking up a fork to eat, were taken from him forever. That night at the hospital I tried to put out of my mind what it would be like to never have him put his arms around me again. A little hug at the end of the day was my safest and most comfortable place, and that would never, ever be again.

My brother brought me home from the hospital about four in the morning. I couldn't bring myself to climb the stairs to our bedroom. The way I felt, I didn't think I could ever go in that room and look at that bed, knowing we would never sleep in it together again. I sat on the couch and called Mohegan Sun Casino, where I was a credit executive, and told them what happened. Since the casino is open twenty-four hours, there's always someone there. I was advised to call the human resources department on Monday and get the necessary paperwork for a medical leave of absence.

I sat on the couch in a daze until my niece, Dina, arrived around six in the morning, still clad in her pajamas. She helped me make the necessary phone calls to Ray's employer, his relatives, and his friends while my sister called my relatives. It was difficult breaking the news because, at that time, I really didn't know what the complete prognosis was.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Split Secondby Sandra Hocking Copyright © 2012 by Sandra Hocking. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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