My brother Brady

My oldest brother Brady was born with a rare form of muscular dystrophy and passed away when I was 17 years old. He was a great influence on my life for good and I miss him so much. This is a page out of his life  story that I wanted to share with you. It is written from my mother’s  point of view.
Brady Sibling #7
On an especially warm day, September 11, 1983, Steve and I drove cautiously but with excitement to LDS Hospital in anticipation of greeting our seventh child. The dramatic saga of the previous 24 hours was a far cry from that peace. This baby’s scheduled C-section delivery was two weeks away ( even that was one week earlier than her actual due date) when Steve boarded a plane headed to Florida. My labor started within an hour of his departure. He didn’t call home that night because of his late arrival and I didn’t know what hotel he was staying in (before cell phones). My neighbor Greg Turman insisted he take me to the hospital when he learned that I planned to drive myself if the labor didn’t stop. The pains continued with regularity throughout the night. The next morning Steve called just before heading out for the day to enjoy the Epcot center with business colleagues. “You better come home, I said, this is the real deal”. He quickly returned to the airport, boarded a plane for Chicago, then Denver, and finally headed to Salt Lake City where 20 hours later I was still in labor. It was a worrisome flight for him because he didn’t know what was going on at home. It was also complicated for me because it was dangerous to have C-Sections while in labor. Upon his return home, he left the car running in the driveway, and hurriedly helped me on board. After we arrived at the hospital and they took me in to the operating room, my neighbor Carol Langford dressed all my other kids and brought them to the hospital, which was not an easy task. They were there within minutes of delivery and when Dad went to the waiting room and proudly announced that we now had a baby sister, Brady stuck his tongue out in disappointment. He was six years old and had been convinced by his friends that boys are the best and girls were lame. Steve brought the baby out for all the kids to see and cuddle and Brady immediately changed his mind. He loved his little Bobbie Jo. He always wanted mom to place this little baby on his bed tucked under his arm so he could “tend” her. He continued this practice all his life; she would snuggle up under his left arm and reach across his chest to tickle his other arm. Unlike his brothers who would offer to pay Bobbie to stop singing, he would ask her to lie there for hours and sing him songs. He would then ask her to power crank up his bed to sitting position so he could watch her do standing back tucks over and over.
One night, when Bobbie was about seven years old, she woke up in the night with the feeling that she should“check on Brady”. She later thought she might have heard him click his tongue, which is what he did when he wanted attention. Her room however, was two rooms away and that seemed almost impossible with the noise of his ventilator. She jumped out of bed and ran to his room, turned on the light, removed his eye cover and saw a look of panic in his face. His buzzer was supposed to be safety pinned to his sheets within constant range and even though it was still attached to a cord, it had fallen on the floor out of reach. His face looked ashen grey. It took her a moment to realize his trach tube had come out of his neck. For a moment, she didn’t know what to do and wonders why she didn’t just scream for mom or dad but instead, she bravely pushed it back in the open hole in his neck.  Both were immediately relieved when they heard the whoosh of air flooding his lungs. That sound is one she will never forget.
When Bobbie was a teenager Brady would insist she model her prom dresses before each dance.  She would have her hair done fancy and all her makeup ready then stroll through his room like a princess. He loved it. The morning after the dates she would lie on the bed and give him all the details of the night before. He was always so interested in all the lives of his siblings.
Bobbie often came home for lunch from school and brought friends. Brady loved it when they would stop in and visit a bit. This Monday morning January 2, 2002  she entered Brady’s room laughing and happy until she saw Cr. Calabrese, BJ, Brandon and Mom surrounding Brady’s bed. Their countenance stunned her; she knew it was bad news.  Brady’s ventilator was technically still pumping air into his lungs and his heart was beating but his spirit was gone. She burst into tears, climbed up on his bed and snuggled up under his armpit…one last time.


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  • Meagan

    Bobbie, this was so sweet. It seriously brought tears to my eyes. What wonderful memories with a very special person. Both you and Brady.ReplyCancel

  • Michelle Smith

    What a great bond you two had and wonderful that your mom documented things.ReplyCancel

  • I loved reading this entry from your Mom. You and Brady did have such a special connection. I will never forget hearing th com in your house with him asking you to come do flips for him. 🙂ReplyCancel

  • Janae

    Bobbie, that made me cry… What a sweet story of sibling love. There is nothing like the support and acceptance that comes from it. Thanks for sharing, it made my day. (a big thanks to your mom as well.)ReplyCancel


MyMommyStyle Meet Camille

Hello! I am Camille, a wife, mother of four, Disney obsessed, certified teacher, and reality optimist. Motherhood comes with its ups and downs, and I hope while you're here you'll find something that makes your #momlife easier!


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