My brother was my only sibling. Our parents were divorced in 1975. I wasnít close to my father and my relationship with my mother was strained at times. The only person I was close to was my Brother Jon, which came to a crashing end on Wednesday, May 26, 1999. These pictures are some of the memories I have of my Brother Jon. One part of the picture is him and I at his 3rd birthday 2/29/71. The other half is my favorite picture of him when he was about 25 years old. As we were both in our twenties, Jon and I got to be very close.
The last Saturday night I spent with him, I told him that I was getting married to my Fiance Bill, in July of the next year. Little did I know, I would only have four days left with my brother at that time. It was a Wednesday morning, I had gotten up for work like usual. I received a call from Bill, telling me my Brother Jon had been rushed to the hospital. From what Bill could tell me at the time, Jon had a heart attack, but wasnít life threatening. At that point, not thinking it was a life or death situation, I finished a few things that were on my desk, then cleaned up so that I could leave.
Then came the second call, which was from my brotherís girlfriend Chris, telling me I need to get to the hospital right away. In the back of my mind, Iím still not thinking he could be dead, but maybe that this was just a big scare for him to start taking care of himself better. When I arrived at the hospital, I just knew then that something was wrong. I went to the nurseís station and they wouldnít tell me anything except to say the rest of my family was outside the door. As I walked to the door, my mother walked up to me and said that my brother had passed away. From that moment on, it was all a blur, for I collapsed on the floor. My brother had died of a ruptured dissection of proximal ascending aorta at 31 years of age. In laymanís terms, his main artery from his heart ruptured. Although I was 34 years old at the time, I felt like I aged 20 years that weekend. We had to plan my brotherís funeral, which meant picking out a casket, vault, clothes, music, flowers and pallbearers. That was the hardest day of my life.
It has since been 1 year and 5 months and Iíve had my good and bad days, but I can finally write about him. I want my brother to know, although he is missed by everyone, I especially miss him as we all try to go on without him in our lives. Although I miss our weekends together, I know deep down inside that he is in a better place now and doesnít have to suffer anymore. He left behind friends John Duke, Ken Harter, Dennis Johnson, Bob OíNeill and the spirit of Tim Simpson, who had died the year before Jon. Among other friends, he also left me his Sister Jodi, Mother Connie, Father Galen, Uncle Loren, Grandmother Martha, Significant Other Christine, Daughter Lindsey Marie and Son Joseph behind.
I also ask everyone who reads this to please sign an organ donor card; my brother was a donor. This is a tribute to my Brother Jon William Scholl, so that his memory is NEVER FORGOTTEN.
Love his Sister