Saturday May 13, 2006
5:35 a.m. I received a call from my younger brother.
Paul is gone.
My big brother is dead.
The news of death is such a startling thing. Even when it’s inevitable, which it actually always is for all of us, but when it’s expected there’s almost a reaction from others that well, he had been ill for a long time.
But the ice water sensation still washes over you.
The dagger stab to the stomach and heart still penetrates your soul.
My mom said that it was, in a sense, the best mothers day gift he could have given her. At first glance that might seem horrible, but you have to understand that as a parent watching for six long, heartbreaking years your son’s body betray him – well, that goes beyond anyone’s comprehension. To have a child killed suddenly or horrifically is something that every parent dreads, but to watch the systematic decline of a vibrant son, with his mind encased in a stiff and twisted body, I can’t fathom how excruciating that must have been. It was a relief to her, to me, to anyone who adored him. To anyone who looked at him and saw the twinkle in his eyes and knew the depth of struggle he must be enduring. To look into the eyes of someone you love so dearly and see the brother as a little boy who walked through the airport raising his arms to the imaginary adoring crowd saying “Fans! Fans!” – I can’t really even begin to convey how soul crippling that is.
Fans.
We are all fans. Talk about your good and faithful servant. He brought us all to Christ. Isn’t that incredible?
It took someone who lost the ability to speak to teach us the Word.
Takes the whole cliché of God working in mysterious ways to a whole new level.
He is gone. But, man, what a legacy.
He is gone.
Home.
He is with my dad, his beloved Auntie Winnie, Nana, and all our people. But most of all, he has been welcomed into the kingdom, walking tall with his spirit completely in tact, to the loving embrace of his Savior to whom he worked so tirelessly, so relentlessly.
I grieve for my loss. For my mother’s son. My brother’s and sister’s sibling. For my niece and nephew’s father. For my sister in law’s husband.
But I praise God for finally giving him what he so richly deserved.
Peace.
I hope he’s dancing. I hope he's singing. I hope he’s laughing.
I’ll miss him for the rest of my life.