My Brother Mike
I really don't know how to write this. First of all, my oldest brother is, or was, 15 years older than me. I had to Google the newspapers in Texas and in Nebraska where he was born, to find out if he was dead or alive. My mother told me a year ago that he had prostate cancer and that it had metastasized. I haven't spoken to my mother since May of 2007. She didn't call for my birthday, but for my spouse's birthday. Not a word since then. Isn't that something?
My big brother, Mike, or Michael as he preferred, died on December 12, 2007. No one called to tell me, of course. I just found the obituary in the paper today; I am not listed as a family member. But for me, it is like he just died. Memories...good memories...are flooding my mind. He left home after he graduated and started college. He didn't come home much after that, but he was the brother that I always felt closest to.
I found a photo of all of us at the little Methodist church he used to preach at. It is a very telling photo in terms of non-verbal communication. It is painful to look at, because it tells our family story so well. There were many broken hearts in my family. "Tie signs" are the way we touch each other in photos, and you can see so much about our family's pain by the tie signs, and the way we were, or were not together.
I had been praying for him since I found out that the cancer had spread. I had been feeling as if he was gone, or going, since around Thanksgiving. So I just kept searching the obituary archives. I thought about calling him...we even contemplated an impromptu visit. We didn't know how, or if we would be received. I hate subjecting my children to all the bitterness in my family. So instead, I just kept praying. Only God knows where he is now. I still have to believe that he is in heaven...even though he left seminary...even though he turned from God. I hope and pray that he made his peace with God.
My mother said once that she 'wondered if he ever really believed'. I hope he did. I hope he read the books by CS Lewis that the hospice web site says they gave to people. I hope he made his peace with God. I continue to pray for his son, his ex-wife and his wife Elaine and her nine children.
Elaine's last name was Jeffs. Remember the fundamentalist Mormon sect leader Warren Jeffs? Elaine had escaped from a Mormon polygamist sect. She escaped with many of her children. A few of them still chose to live in the sect, last I knew. What a pair Mike and Elaine were. I liked Elaine when I met her. She was kind to me. She was kind to my mother too. I can't imagine the things she had been through. I hope she makes her peace with God too. There are so many broken hearts in the world friends. At least they finally found each other.
It is a sad thing to be dead to your family, when you are so full of life, so full of love. It is sad that my brother Michael was the only one of my siblings that would open presents from us after we helped my dad fight a financial planner that had taken advantage of my father and my step-mother. He said that he ate the basket of Ghirardelli chocolates we sent to them. He told my mother that 'they ate them and that they were good!' Of course, that was while she was still talking to us.
Mike bought me my first real magnifying glass! He knew that I loved science. He took time to explain things to me, like my dad had always done. They had to have shared a few good times, right? I mean, Mike could do anything he set his mind to. He decided to learn tailoring, because our great grandfather had been a tailor in Germany. He did it. He tailored a beautiful suit. Then he decided to learn to refinish and restore Victorian furniture. He even had to carve parts that were missing. He was very talented. He could have charged top dollar. But he said he hated rich people. Michael was very angry. He had issues that I hope he finally dealt with. I hope, I hope, I hope.
Well friends...I had been planning on sharing some of my dreams, and instead, I write this grief filled blog. Please forgive me. I wanted to let you know why I am not writing the things I said that I would. But my brother Michael has my attention today.
I can probably share one dream with you. It was a dream from a very long time ago. You see, I have been praying for my family to be saved for a very long time. I wasn't very old when I had this dream. It was over 20 years ago. I wanted to know if the Lord was hearing my prayers...if I should pray more...if I should pray harder. If there was anything else I could do or say that would help to ease the pain of my sad, angry and grieving family. I never blamed them. I just wanted them all to be happy.
My dad sat at the head of a table, wearing a little tiny white hat. It looked like a doll hat, it was so small. It looked silly on his head. He didn't look at anyone, or talk to anyone. He kept saying the same thing over and over. "I just want to end up with a white hat. I just want to end up with a white hat."
The table was very long. It was formal and at the same time, rustic. The walls looked like the walls of a cave. It was cold, damp and fearful energy hung in the air, threatening to zap us like lightening in a storm. I was there and yet, I was safe. The trepidation of my father and siblings was tangible. My mother followed me around chattering, and moaning in pain from time to time.
There was a television in the room. It was showing disaster after disaster...man made and acts of God. The world was full of unnamed fear. My sister was there. She was crazy mad. My other brother was there, talking and arguing non-stop. I tried to talk to them. I looked at my oldest brother who was the only other one sitting at the table with my dad. He was the only one that looked at me. I looked away to talk to my brother and sister and when I turned back he was fading. He came back one more time, then he was gone. He wasn't fighting, or angry anymore, he just sitting and listening, and then he was gone.
What happened to my other brother and my sister? Well, I think my brother finally "got it" too. He quit talking; he was very quiet. That is exceptional for him. It is not a common occurrence. My sister kept saying, "Nope. No way." and violently shaking her head. Then her tears flowed. She said, "nope, not me, not me...I've done too much."
I remember when I finally figured out that she thought that she could not forgive, and that she could not be forgiven either. My mother said once that my sister was so bitter and hateful towards me, that she would really need my forgiveness someday before she died. She said and did a lot of hateful, spiteful and destructive things to me and my family. She knows she has. She also knows that I forgive her. I know that if or when that time comes where she is ready to forgive and be forgiven...I'll know just what to say to her. I'll cup her face in my hands and say, "hush...hush now. All is forgiven. I have already forgiven you, and so has He."
Some dreams are hard to dream, but I am so grateful for them, even when they are hard to know. I hope that this grief I share is not a burden. I hope that my hope for you, for me, for all of us; is the most important thing you take from here friend. Jesus forgives. Don't be like my family...and let pain, anger and grief rule your life. Forgive others and receive your forgiveness from the Lord. Let him wipe away your tears and say, "hush...hush now. All is forgiven. I have already forgiven you. Now, you must also forgive yourself."
Love, love, love while you can.
It won't be long now.
Truthsayer
copyright February 27, 2008
