On June 28, 1953, Gerald and Bernice Scott welcomed a son, Gerry. Upon Gerry's arrival, there were some complications with the birth, and his oxygen supply was compromised, resulting in a form of cerebral palsy. The doctors warned them to have hiim put away, in an institution, that he would have no quality of life what so ever. Well if anyone reading this had the opportunity to meet either one of my grandparents, you would know, that that would have never been an option.
Broken wing or not, they were going to take their angel home. This is a virtue that both my grandparents were blessed with, no matter who you are, or how broken you may be, they would accept you. No matter what you would be loved.
For the next eleven months, my grandparents and their son learned the meaning of true love and dedication. My grandmother tube-fed Gerry, took him to physical therapy, and ran a house, all while raising a four year old daughter.
My grandfather also worked, at one time three jobs to pay medical expenses.
One summer morning in May of 1954, Bernice was in her kitchen, when she had a strange feeling come over her, mother's intuition, perhaps. I have heard my grandmother recite this many times, and it plays in my mind so vividly, I almost feel like I was there. When she walked out of the kitchen, there sat Gerry in his highchair. She said that it was like there was a glow to his face, like a halo of light around him. He smiled at her, then he was gone. To this day, you can still see the hurt, and loss that she feels. Today, their son, my mother's brother and my uncle is loved and miss everyday, and now that my Grandfather is gone, I know that he and his son are once again together, and they watch over all of us. I know there is life after this, and that our loved ones are always there to meet us should we cross over to Heaven...
Written by: Amanda Serrano
