two younger brothers. One night in December 1979, my father had left for the long drive to work far outside the city and my mother, brothers, and I were watching television. An alarming knock at the door brought two strange men to tell my mother that my father had been badly injured in an accident. They seemed so grave that I was sure it would be my last chance to see my father and I begged my mother to be allowed to accompany her to the hospital. Instead she thought it was necessary that I take care of my brothers and in that single night I was promoted to the status of an adult. The next morning my mother had not yet returned and I delivered the boys to school. As I approached our house I could hear my mother screaming and I stopped in my tracks--unable to go on, as though my feet had become numb.
When I recovered and went in the house my uncles and an aunt were attending to my mother and I discovered that my father was in a coma. He died that day and all that I could think of was how to tell my brothers what had happened. My mother seemed completely unable to cope; she was in a state of shock and fainted every time she tried to stand. My father had been very important to all of us and I do not remember how I succeeded in telling my brothers that he was gone. As the evidence mounted before them that their mother had also left them, in a way, my principal thought was that I had to alleviate this situation and make it less of a double loss for them.
My relationship with my siblings change abruptly. I talked to them constantly, they slept in my room, and I took them to school and oversaw their homework. I was suddenly promoted to managing the entire household
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