RUMFORD – When our Mom and siblings asked me to write this obituary, and because they love us both so much, I said I would. But how do I even try to write down who you were, little brother, and how much I loved you?

My dining room table is piled high with the leftover contents of your group home; I can see so much of who you were in the things you saved.

There are the photos. Photos of Pine Tree Camp, where you won races on crutches and made friendships that lasted a lifetime. Here’s a picture of your baptism, where your love of Jesus overcame your fear of going under water. Photos, too, of your months at the Shriners Hospital, as you endured seven major bone breaking surgeries before the age of 16.

There are the awards you earned: Maine State Goodwill resident of the year, your graduation from Lewiston High, the years at Canton Elementary where you bridged the way for future kids with disabilities by conquering the misconceptions and prejudices that often come with having a disability. For you were born in the 1960s with cerebral palsy, but it never defined who you were. Canton schools made room for you, bending the traditional classroom “regulations” so far they were broken in two for the love of one little boy. Canton had the right idea. They showed the grit in integrity. A class act, you would say.

I know you would say it was a “class act” because it was and because you never let go of a chance to pun on any occasion. You were funny. I wish I had photos of the bumper stickers on the back of your wheelchair, which said, “If you don’t like the way I drive, get off the sidewalk.” Also, “Labels are for Cans.” That sense of humor…That’s what our big sister Alanna remembers most. That, and your smile.

Ah! Here is the faded Portland Press newspaper clipping about you. It was a featured “ Person of Interest” article about you juggling three retail jobs to provide for your family. After these jobs, you went on to work almost a decade as a greeter at Scarborough Walmart and as a floor Navigator at Maine Med. In all that time, you missed two days of work. Two days. Person of interest, indeed.

There are the boxes and boxes of cards. If someone sent you a picture or card, I probably have it here on my table. Mom sent cards every week for years, even after she broke her leg this summer. This is in keeping with her own mother, our grandmother Cobb, who faithfully sent you five cards a week during your Shriners’ Hospital stays.

As I try to absorb your history clustered up in this dining room, there are memories that didn’t make onto the table. That pickup truck full of nice stuff (For example: How many ’80s CDs did you own?!) which son, Carl II and wife Cassie donated, fittingly, to Goodwill. It seems, through the years, your son, my late husband, Eric and I were always helping you move. The stories I could tell, but won’t… Only the one that has me chasing your couch as it slid down Cumberland Avenue in the middle of an ice storm. It’s funny now. By the way, you have the nicest kids and grandson. But you know that.

Our wonderful family. Mom’s and Dad’s tenacious, loving, ground-breaking acceptance of who you were. How you loved those Dave-led gospel bluegrass concerts at your home. Our “moo cow” jokester brother who loves you so well, says this of you, “Carl had this ability to make new friends with his contagious positive attitude and smile.” Our sweet brother, Paul. Of course it was Paul I asked to do your eulogy. He said he would.

You were raised to be independent. I can sum up the way you were raised with one of our Kennebago Camp stories. All of us were out in the boat fly-fishing on Kennebago Lake, when a storm came in quick, clouds swirling black and lively, as they are apt to do in the mountains. It started to pour as we headed toward shore. We reeled in our lines, and before I could reach over and help you with your line, you felt a tug. Over you went, special chair and all, falling onto the sides of the boat, banging your helmeted head. But did you ever let go of the line? Never! We sat you back up and in the drenching rain, you netted a 17 inch salmon. This whopper remains the biggest Rangeley fish ever caught by any member of our family. Boasting rights. Good stuff.

Yes, you were independent, sometimes to the point of being stubborn.

Yet, you would often remind me of some amazing helpers you had throughout the years: Mom and Dad, Grammie Martin, Maine Med staff, Jolly, Eric, Shawna, Jen. There was Aunty Helen, Lianna, Kolinn, Kelsey, Delaney; Greg Campbell, Lisa and Dee Jackson…guiding you to school; cousin Michelle, who helped you, at 6 years old, dig a hole to China; so many others… To paraphrase Mister Rogers’ Mother: “When life gets scary, look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” We saw this lived out, didn’t we?

Forgive me if I ramble out memories. You see, Carl, I just lost my job. The best job in the whole wide world…and that was to watch over you. But there is Good News. I leave you in the hands of the One who loves you infinitely more than I. And I leave you in a place where you can now walk for the first time in your life. Where you can run and dance and twirl around.

And our Dad? Our Dad who was blinded here on earth, gets to see you do it all.

Your last words were “I want to go home to Heaven.” God answered you, Honey, and brought you home. See you in awhile, bro.

Carl was predeceased by his father, Allan B. Martin; his brother-in-law, Ray Sommer, and his brother-in-law, Eric Bunford.

Carl leaves behind his son, Carl Edward Martin II and his wife Cassie, of New Gloucester; his son, Samuel Martin, of Stonington, his daughter, Stephanie Locke, of West Bowdoin; one grandchild, Allan Martin, of Stonington; his mother, Pauline Martin, of Lewiston and Alvord, Texas; sister, Alanna Sommer Price and her husband, Frank Price of Alvord, Texas, brother, Paul Martin and his wife, Christa, of Celina, Texas, sister, Jan Ryder and her husband, Dave Ryder, of Portland; many (also funny in their own right) nieces and nephews; cousins; roommates and friends.

Friends and family are invited to share memories with the family at http://www.meaderandson.com.

A graveside service to honor Carl will be held Friday, June 14 at 10 a.m. at Pine Grove Cemetery, Route 108 in Canton, Pastor Ken MacLeod officiating. All are encouraged to attend.

If you wish to make a donation in Carl’s name, please consider a donation to:

Pine Tree Camp

114 Pine Tree Camp Rd.,

Rome, ME 04963; or

Community of Grace

355 Bridgton Rd.

Westbrook, ME 04092

Clearly notate this donation is for the

Ecuador Missions Team or

https://communityofgrace.breezechms.com/form/0633ad

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