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It is a poetry. It is my life experiences written in poetry format.




Tal was born Nov. 11, 1976. Do you know why this day was special? It was Veteran’s Day of the Bicentennial year of our country’s independence. Besides
being born on a special day, Tal was a special kid. He was a gutsy 5-year old who liked to ride his big wheel down the sidewalk by taking off the seat, kneeling on
the big wheel and pushing with his foot. That way he could go faster. We called him “a bull in a china cupboard.”

We were sledding at Sugar House Park, Dec. 31, 1981. Tal wanted to take the Glad-a-Boggan down the hill himself. Mom begged him to let her go with him.
Grandma pleaded with him to let her go with him. Tal said, “no.” He had to go by himself. Mom watched him start down the hill. His plastic runnerless sled headed for the railing post, the one kids used to pull themselves up the hill. Kawham!! He was going about 50-70 mph when his head hit the post. Mom gave the baby to grandma and ran down the hill. Tal was bleeding from his nose, mouth and someplace else, maybe the back of his head. Someone called an ambulance. A lady led a prayer circle and shortly after an Elder of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints blessed Tal that he would remain alive until the doctors could help him. The doctor’s didn’t give much hope at the hospital. They removed the left side of his skull to allow for swelling of the brain. After 10 days the doctors took him out of a drug-induced coma. He was paralyzed on the right side and had lost his speech. His head was swollen or sunken depending on how the shunt was working. The doctors and nurses called him “the miracle child.”

It is this gutsy little boy, (I call him little because he is 26 years old and is 4 feet and 8 inches tall) who defeated the odds and survived that accident, is who
writes this book of poetry. This young man walks with a crutch and uses a wheelchair. He not only writes poetry, but he has been on a mission to Tempe, Arizona. He attended Salt Lake Community College Skill Center, with studies in Medical Records.

In this horrific accident, the left side of his brain was damaged. Today Tal has developed the right side of his brain, which is the creative side. Therefore he
enjoys writing poetry, he has deep spiritual experiences and thoughts, I hope you appreciate the talents of this young man.


God’s Will For Tal Gorringe

As Dusty and I struggle back up the sleigh riding hill, we watch Tal go down.
Tal is a gutsy five year old. He wanted to tackle that gigantic hill all by himself.
The glad-a-boggen is heading straight down the hill. What’s going on? Tal’s Sled is turning. It’s going under the hand rail. I hope Tal doesn’t hit the hand rail. Crash!
“That’s my son. My son is hurt! Can you take my baby Grandma?”

Half skating, half sliding, and clinging to the handrail, I finally got to my son. My Tal.
I picked his limp body up and carefully carried him down the hill. It’s probably a mild concussion. Tommy had three of those. Tommy’s O.K.

My hands are red. Blood. Oh no. I’d better put Tal down. What if something is broken?
“Call an ambulance! Someone call an ambulance!”
He’s bleeding from his nose and mouth. My Tal. My Tal. Margene, clean an air passage. His jaw is locked shut. You’ve got to pry his mouth open. Stick your
thumb in his mouth. He is still breathing.
There’s a big circle of people around. People who were sleigh riding just minutes ago, are now in a prayer circle around us. A lady is saying a prayer. Where’s
a priesthood holder?
Please, is there a priesthood holder?
A woman, who says she is a nurse, is putting a blanket over Tal. She is trying to put keys between his teeth so my fingers won’t be bitten off. At least I’m doing something. A man is coming this way.
“Will you administer to my son?”
What is the man saying?
“Bless this young boy that he will live until the doctors can help him.”
That’s not enough. Bless him again.
O.K. Heavenly Father, bless Tal to be O.K.
Finally, the paramedics are here. They stabilize his head. Paramedics can’t transfer? A Gold Cross ambulance is necessary to take Tal to the hospital? I hear it
coming. Heavenly Father, help Tal. Bless him to live. Bless him to be O.K.
What started out to be a fun family sleigh ride outing at Sugarhouse Park has turned out to be . . .
Grandma is taking the other four kids.
“Linda, tell Gary we’ll be at Holy Cross Hospital.”
I don’t want to be in front of the ambulance. I want to be with Tal. Can’t I get in the back with Tal? Heavenly Father, bless Tal to live. Heavenly Father, bless Tal
to be O.K.

Oh no! Problems. We can’t go to Holy Cross Hospital. The Cat Scan isn’t working. Heavenly Father are you helping?
Can Tal last the extra distance to Primary Children’s Hospital?
Heavenly Father, are you there?
The sirens are blasting. The cars are being considerate and moving out of the way. It still seems like forever. We’re crawling. I don’t dare look at my son. Maybe
they won’t tell me if he’s dead. How much blood can a little guy lose? Heavenly Father, help us, hurry!
The doors of the hospital clank open. Tal is whisked into an emergency room.
I see only a glimpse of him.
“Is he still alive?”
They lead me into a small waiting room. Gary, doesn’t know we’re here.
“Can someone let Gary know where we are?”
A doctor says they will call Holy Cross Hospital. They will let Gary know Tal is at Primary Children’s Hospital.
A doctor asks, what’s Tal’s blood type: “I don’t know.”
They’ll use universal donor blood. Why don’t I know that? It could save his life.
Will Gary blame me? What will I do if Gary blames me? Can I face him?
Two policemen are entering the room. How can I talk to them. I’m barely holding myself together.
O.K. Margene, stop your crying long enough to answer the policemen’s questions.
What’s his name?
What’s your name?
What’s your husband’s name?
Where do you live?
Where did it happen?
What time? I don’t know. What time is it anyway?
“About 4:00, I guess. I don’t know. A half hour ago.”
Where’s Gary? Shouldn’t he be here by now? Is he going to blame me?
I need to find someone to administer to Tal. Maybe that man can help me. He looks like a security guard. Good. He’s going to find some oil. Tal doesn’t look like
Tal with tubes coming out of him, and his head shaven. The man says if Gary doesn’t want to give the blessing because of the way Tal looks, he will find someone

Where’s Gary?
Will he blame me? I need to call someone in the ward. The Bishop is out of town over Christmas holidays. I’ll call Dennis Lumbardi. I know his number. Where’s a phone?
“Hello Dennis.”
Margene, stop crying. He can’t understand you.
“Tal’s been hurt real bad; the doctors are trying to stabilize him. We’re at Primary Children’s Hospital. Oh Dennis . . .”
I hang up. It may be rude but I can’t talk anymore. Here’s Gary.
“Do you blame me?”
Tears stream down my face. His arms encircle me.
“Of course not”
Once I get control, I will tell Gary the details. I immediately direct him to the security guard who has the oil. Again, the security guard cautions Gary, it might be
best to have someone else administer to Tal because of all the tubes. Gary hasn’t seen Tal yet, but chooses to administer the blessing himself. Gary returns. The realization of the seriousness staggers him. The doctors come out. A wall of white approaches us. Their faces display great concern. I don’t know if I want to hear what they’re going to say. “Tal has lost a lot of blood. He is in a life threatening situation. There is a paralysis on the right side. We’re trying to stabilize him enough to take him to the CAT Scan, then to surgery.”

Dr. Walker warns us that Tal won’t live unless they operate, and he might not live through the operation. Tal’s skull is cracked from his nose all the way back to
the base of his skull. The surgery could take six or seven hours. Brother Lumbardi, from the bishopric and brother Elsby come to comfort us. I so much appreciate them being here.

Still in his hospital scrub suit, Dr. Walker is coming to talk to us. It’s only 7:00 P.M.
It only took two hours. The operation is over. They have removed the whole left side of his skull, which is in four or five big pieces and could be replaced later. The fragmented skull cut into the motor area, the speech area, and a little into the vision area.
The critical concern now is the swelling of his brain. Tal’s pulse rate has been irregular all night. When it reaches 200, an alarm goes off. A machine shows Tal’s
brain waves are going wild. I don’t know what it means except it doesn’t worry me. I know what it means to have a flat brain line. Activity, no matter how erratic
indicates Tal’s brain is still alive. Grandma and Grandpa are here with us now, as well as Gary’s Mom, his brother, Randy, and niece, Linda. They insist on staying. We sack out on couches, chairs, and the floor. The hospital provides blankets. Between worrying, squeaky chairs, and going to check on Tal, nobody sleeps.

Gary and I finally sent everyone home about 2:00 A.M.
Dr. Walker is sleeping in a little room next to ICU, so he can be there if Tal needs help.
During the night I visit Tal several times. This time the nurse tells me she doesn’t know how long Tal can last like this. She tells me to talk to Tal; he can probably hear me. I talk to him and cry. I tell him how much I love him, and that I will fight for him as long as he wants me to keep fighting.
I went back to Gary after this visit with tears streaming.
“Gary, I feel Tal is listening to me from Heaven. I picture him holding Heavenly Father’s hand as I tell him how much I love him.”
I visit Tal maybe once more that eternal night. It is hard to see my son with his head shaved, swollen like a balloon, and so disfigured. Tubes here, Ivy’s there. No
clothes on his little body.
Not moving. Tal doesn’t look like that! Maybe it is a comfort to me to envision him holding Heavenly Father’s hand, well, whole, and happy.
Tal made it through the night. That’s a good sign. He’s still in a life threatening condition.

Another CAT Scan is done this morning. The scan reveals blood clots in the center of the brain, and one that has saturated the frontal lobe and destroyed it.
Another operation. How much can Tal handle? The probability of Tal not making it through the operation is still great. The doctors won’t touch the clot in the center of the brain because more damage could occur from cutting than the blood clot itself. The frontal lobe needs to be removed. The thoughts of having part of Tal’s brain removed crushes Gary and me. Was Tal going to end up a vegetable after all this? The third clot won’t require cutting into the brain and can be easily removed. Prayers fill my heart and mind again. I know Heavenly Father is here. His arms seem to sooth me like a cradle song. I know he guides the doctors’ hands. As long as Heavenly Father is with Tal, I can accept whatever happens. What is God’s Will for Tal? He helped Tal stay alive ‘til the doctors could attend to him as promised in the blessing. (We realize now it was a blessing for the paramedics to detour to Primary Children’s Hospital. Dr. Walker is the best pediatric neurosurgeon in the West. Was Dr. Walker at Primary Children’s hospital by chance?) The doctors return and Gary and I are overwhelmed by another miracle. The clot that was discovered on the CAT Scan to have saturated the frontal lobe, turns out to be only a surface clot.

It is easily removed with no more damage to the brain. Thank you Heavenly Father. Thank you!
What is God’s Will for my son? He wants Tal to live! Tal is a determined little guy. Whatever God’s Will is, Tal can handle it. Tal will live and love and be happy
no matter what the circumstances are, and I can