Heffernan Family Events – Vol. 5

The Heffernan Family is defined by its history together and apart. Well-known to us, but maybe not to everyone are the family members and all those other people, places, and events that serve to make up our own unique family identity. This post if an effort to detail the people and events that make us the Royal Heffernans.

Bridget, the only girl

She’s the only Heffernan female that never wasn’t a Heffernan. She’s Bridget, the middle child that grew up with two older and two younger male siblings who loved nothing better than letting “the girl Heffernan” know that’s what she was, just a girl. Anyone who knows Bridget knows that she’s definitely a Heffernan, at least now. But there were a few times in her life that Bridget definitely didn’t act like a Heffernan.

Bridget, like all Heffernan children, was tormented every weekend by mom. Mom made us take piano lessons from her, and I think the only thing worse than having to sit there and play was having to listen to how awful most of us were. Bridget was smart- she joined the St. Matthew’s school band to escape the Sunday piano lesson hell. We somehow acquired Grandpa Heffernan’s old trumpet, with its sturdy leather-covered-wooden case, and Bridget’s lessons began. Those were the days when we walked home from school because, well, frankly because mom refused to come get us. That and we liked throwing snowballs at the LOOKS sign. I digress…

Bridget also was required to walk home. Unfortunately, she was twelve and her trumpet accounted for nearly 13.82% of her body weight. Since she had to walk home after band practice, she had no one to help carry. Bridget would usually make it roughly halfway home, to the library on Miami and Ewing, before she would make a collect-call home, crying and sobbing about how heavy her trumpet was. At this point mom would be pissed but would still go pick her up. Upon arrived home, one of Bridget’s brothers would make fun of her and Bridget would throw her trumpet case at them, trumpet included. The last comment before Bridget disappeared would be “If you’re strong enough to throw it, why couldn’t you carry it?”

But Bridget also had other breakdowns. Her first actual breakdown occurred on the Great Western Expedition to Yellowstone. Dad and mom planned a enjoyable, leisurely hike in the natural settings to a scenic river spot. Apparently dad couldn’t read the map because what was supposed to be leisurely turned out to be a 20-mile death march reminiscent of the Trail of Tears. Getting to the river wasn’t bad, but by the time we turned around we were already tired, thirsty, and hungry. Several of us were being carried, but Bridget, complaining about how far there was left to go, simply stopped. Sitting down on the side of the trail she uttered that now famous statement: “Leave me here! I’m just gonna sit here and DIE!” She eventually got up and we all made it back to our cabin, tired and thirsty and hungry and seriously doubting dad’s ability to read a map.

Bridget was also a driving maniac at two distinct points in life. She is still the only Heffernan to have damaged a car parking either in the garage or in the driveway. She tried to lie about it, and to this day denies killing the front fender of the Camry, but we all know it was her. The other time was when she backed up the large gray conversion van. Now granted, it was old, in need of serious repairs, and had probably outlived its prime, but I really think the mailbox could have lasted at least a few more years if Bridget hadn’t run it over. The mailbox must be nearly 8 feet from the driveway, and Bridget took it out clean. To actually hit it was a feat in-and-of-itself! Go Bridget!

But Bridget earned her Heffernan stripes, as they say, in high school. She made Heffernans proud everywhere when an ex-girlfriend of Ian’s had tried to bad-mouth Ian. Bridget was just a junior and the ex was a senior, but Bridget still told her to shut up. When the senior didn’t stop Bridget shut her up- with a stiff right hook that knocked her two rows down at a football game. Now I’m no fighting expert, but I have seen girls fight before, and it usually involved a lot of hair-pulling, slapping, and angry squeals. But Bridget is a Heffernan, and even Heffernan women fight tough.

We’ve got to give Bridget some credit; she took a number of lumps throughout life from her brothers and she usually handled things pretty well. Most of the time we were proud to have her as a sister. But she had a few moments when all you could do was hide from whatever object was thrown at you and wait a few years to laugh about it.