This weekend Mike and I went
out of town to watch Mikey run at the State Cross Country meet. We left Frank
home alone to watch the dogs, work and because he really hates watching any
running. It leads me think how blessed we are that he is so responsible but
also for his “Other Mom and Dad” ……..Mona and John Sykora.
It all started because Mikey
was hanging out at his friend, Zach’s house. Zach lives next door to Mona and
John, and the Sykora’s is one of those houses where all the kids want to spend
time. They have a trampoline, a big swing set, a small swimming pool and a
hospitable environment. Mikey really
likes being around younger kids and being a role model. One day, Frank joined
him and I imagine that John needed help with something. Well, Frank loves to
fix things, loves sports, loves electronics even more and loves big screen TV’s
the most! Needless to say, there is no shortage of any of that at the Sykora’s
house. As time went on, Mikey stopped going to Sykora’s and Frank started
spending almost every day there.
It became sort of a joke, so
much so, that we started referring to him as Frank Sykora and even J.B. (John’s
Bitch). Frank would go with John or Mona to their kid’s sports practices, or to
their business, Sylvan
Learning Center
One day, Mona pulled into my
driveway looking for Frank, because Frank is the only one that really knows
where everything is in their house, and they were missing one of the kid’s
games or iPods or something. They were leaving later that day for a trip to Florida
My husband, Mike and I
started to talk to Frank about how much he did for them, the time he spent with
them and how he was neglecting his responsibilities at his real home. We told
him that he was our son; that even though they could provide him with things we
couldn’t; we were his parents; we were the ones that had raised him to be so
trustworthy and responsible.
In the summer of 2010, Frank
started cutting the grass at Sylvan. This was a big job, which required a
riding lawn mower and a push mower. Unfortunately, neither of them was working
properly or at Sylvan. So I packed up our mower and Frank and drove him out to
Sylvan and left him there to push the entire property. I expected that I had a
few hours before he would call to get picked up. To my surprise the phone rang
only an hour or so later. I answered expecting him to say he had finished
already, or that he needed some gas or something. What I heard was him
screaming in pain, barely comprehensible, stating that he had run his foot over
with the lawn mower. He said some woman was driving him to the hospital and
that she needed to know which hospital we want him to be taken. I had him put
her on the phone, and I told her to take him to St. Catherine’s, the closest
one to where he was. I hung up the phone and told Mike we needed to go, NOW,
that Frank was hurt and that he was on his way to the hospital.
On the ride to the hospital,
I remember praying that Frank would live, that he would not be crippled, and that God would give us the
strength to handle what ever the situation we were about to face. Mike was
driving fast, and I nagged him that it wasn’t going to do Frank any good if we
got in an accident on the way to the hospital. As we walked through the doors
of the E.R. my stomach was filled with fear. We were taken to him and we
discovered that the mystery Good Samaritan was John’s sister, Marian, who lives
next to Sylvan. Frank had hopped on one foot to her door to get her help.
He was sitting in the bed
with his left shoe off, a gauze pad resting over his foot, and blood dripping
from his badly cut great toe. The look on his face was a combination of terror,
sadness and concern. We learned that he had a broken toe, and that his toe nail
and toe nail bed had been completely cut off by the lawn mower blade. Amazingly,
it was not cut off completely. We had to wait for a specialist to look at the
cut to see if they could reinsert the toe nail. Regrettably, there was no
saving the toe nail. Someone asked if he had been wearing shoes or sandals and
Frank’s reply was “Sandals, no, I’m not gay,” It was at that point, I knew
everything was going to be okay.
Mona showed up to the hospital
and I saw how much she loves my son. She doesn’t want to steal him, she really
loves him, like one of her own. Later that fall, Frank went to Florida Orlando Cape Canaveral . I remember talking
to Mona about giving them some money to help cover the cost of Frank going with
them. She and John absolutely refused to accept anything. Her statement was “We
love your son.” My emotions ranged from jealousy to happiness that Frank was
able to do this with his “other” family.
Frank now works at Sylvan as
a staff support/tutor. Mona got Mikey a job helping out at PTA meetings each
month. Mona and John have given Frank and Mike help with ACT prep, tutoring,
help with scholarship and college applications.
Mike and I don’t really
socialize with Mona and John. It’s not that they aren’t great, we just
socialize in different circles. Occasionally, I will stop at their house to see
Mona and to make sure we are on the right track with the boys academically. Mona
tells me things about Frank and Mike I would never know otherwise. Mona and
John’s personalities, morals, priorities and accomplishments are different than
Mike’s and mine. I am so thankful that my boys have a chance to have two sets
of parents with different strengths and weaknesses to guide them into adulthood.
I am thankful that they love my sons.
Frank on the jet ski at the Sykora's Lake House
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