Recalling boyhood memories when I was just a lad,
The memory most prevalent and at the forefront of my mind
Was when my brother Bill was deathly sick with polio; when we were so upset and so sad.
Even now, fifty something years later, recalling what happened,
The range of mixed emotions flood back to me, and they are really bad and sad.
It was 1956, my parents along with my other brother Frank, and I
Had to leave our brother in the hospital for some time.
All Frank and I could do was cry, and we kept asking why,
Why our brother had to stay in there, and why we were going home, and he was not with us.
I know now they had him in isolation, but all we knew then was that we couldn’t touch him or hug him to say good-bye.
We didn’t know then what this “polio” wrath was, or that it was sickening all so quick;
Was going on throughout the world, and was paralyzing or laming other kids.
All we knew then was that it was our brother that was in there so alone, so ill and so bleak.
I don’t wish anyone to have to go through what we did back then; no, God forbid.
But I still wonder sometimes, why it happened; and just thinking of that time makes me so very heartsick.
Some say there is a reason for all, and I suppose that could possibly be true.
For the times that my brothers and I shared now,
Have brought us closer, and tighter than glue.
Funny, I don’t recall ever talking to my brother of that time; or of the disease he did elude.
However, the end result was that my brother survived one of life’s biggest challenges;
Is a stronger person for it; and we are just glad that his life was renewed.
Robert Collazo, 5/2/09.
