My Brother's Passing

It is time to start working through the life experiences of the last few months. The emotions have just continued to build up until they almost buried me.

That is my way - like an old dog withdrawing from life to lick his wounds - surfacing again only when the pain has subsided to a manageable level.

My bother was aware of unnamed health problems since February. Our family only became aware of this in July when he was too ill to come home for our mother's birthday. I called him weekly after that so I could hear his voice and keep in touch with what was going on for him.

The end of September - what the doctors were calling a cyst on my brother's kidney was now being called a tumor - and they were going to have to remove one kidney. I was scared to make my weekly call after the surgery - but pushed myself and was rewarded by hearing a voice that sounded surprisingly well.

Then I had the dream: My brother and I are standing at a wide chasm in the field out behind our childhood home. I am attempting to help him cross over but it is too wide at this point. I walk closer to the house to see if I can find a spot where it might be easier to cross. I find such a spot; and turn to tell my brother. But he is already on the other side. Amazed I say to him, "How did you get over there so quickly?"

The next day, I receive the news that on his first check-up after the surgery, the doctor informed my brother that he had leukemia and he would have to go back into the hospital to begin chemotherapy.

I give thanks to God that I have learned to pay attention to what my dreams are telling me. That is the only reason I found the courage to pull myself out of the deep (safe) rut I had carved for myself - and go to my brother.

The trip terrified and overwhelmed me. Thankfully, I did not have to make the trip alone. My youngest brother drove the thousand miles that would get us there. My youngest sister and her daughter came as well. The plan was for them to stay the weekend so they could visit my brother; and then they would return home - leaving me behind to help in whatever way I could.

I let everyone else have the first day to visit my brother on their own - with my sister-in-law. I needed a day to recuperate from the trip; and also to gather my courage for the visit.

The next day, when I arrived at the hopital, my brother was sitting on the side of the bed facing the door when I came in. He had lost a lot of weight - was weak and shaky - but he pulled himself to his feet to greet me. We just stood there holding each other for a couple minutes, crying in each other's arms. Those two minutes made the whole trip worthwhile.

I got to visit with him the next two days; and then he was moved into intensive care - dying just a few short days after that.