It was a Thursday morning. August, 10th, 2000. I remember it like yesterday. My dad called, obviously crying and distraught. He wanted to talk to my mom or my brother. Neither were home, so I just kept asking what was wrong? After a long pause he said, “Bob’s gone.” I threw the phone down and burst into tears. Every family’s worst nightmare had become our reality. The middle child of five, had passed away. Our family would never be the same.
My big brother had been killed in a drunk driving accident during the early morning hours. My brothers friend was driving drunk, took a corner too fast and the car wrapped around a tree. My brother’s friend survived. My brother wasn’t so lucky. Just another seemingly harmless night of drinking out with a friend, ended up taking his life. He was 21.
For our family, the world had been shaken upside down, and our hearts completely shattered. We just wondered why? Why would God allow this to happen? My mother was heart broken and lost for a very long time. No one should ever have to lose a child. I didn’t completely understand her pain, until I became a mother myself. Losing a child has to be the worst kind of loss there is. During this time, we all did our best to be there for each other, and to be there for our parents.
Losing someone you love, especially someone so young, really tests the faith. In the days that followed my brother’s death, I experienced a grief so deep that I questioned my faith. This wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. But after we made it through the funeral and set out on the long journey afterwards, something magical happened…
All of us grieved a little differently. And as most people do, in an attempt to keep our loved ones close, we all shared stories and found a way to appreciate the things he loved. The outdoors was the greatest love of his life. So, a week after his passing, on a quiet, sunny morning, my step-brother and I cast fishing poles off the dock at our parent’s cabin. For no apparent reason, a white bird had landed on the roof. Initially, I thought it was a sea gull or something, which was a little strange for this deep out in the woods of Wisconsin. I walked up to take a closer look. It definitely wasn’t a sea gull. It was a bird I’d never seen before. We called my mom to come outside to look at it. She knew in her heart exactly what it was.
As any youngsters would do, we tried throwing pine cones at it to get it to fly away, but it didn’t move. It just stayed there and watched us. We got a ladder and tried to feed it some popcorn. It let us get close enough to touch it, and as I reached out, I just remember it’s eyes. A beautiful brown, just like my brothers. I decided not to push my luck and touch it, but in that moment, I knew what it was and what it was here for. It was a message from above.
This dove, a bird of peace, stayed with us for almost an hour. When we had all had the chance to realize what it was, it set sail into the forest. It was so beautiful. Gracefully, as quickly as it came, it was gone. But what it left us, will never be forgotten. I still believe it was my brother’s spirit, coming to let us know he was alright, and we didn’t need to question our faith ever again. For whatever reason, Bob had to leave us, but his spirit would be with us forever.
Even though none of us have seen that dove again, we always remember. To this day, we still feel Bob’s presence at different times. During times of sadness, as well as times of joy, everyone who was touched by his life will have stories to tell. Different moments when they felt touched by his loving presence. When we’re out in nature, or just sitting around doing nothing at all, he shows up. For me, I feel him most during my moments of quiet meditation. In my mind, I visit him near the river where we laid his ashes. Once a sad place for me, has become a safe retreat. There are other places too. Places all over the world, where I can see him standing next to me, or holding my hand when I’m struggling. I know he watches over all those who loved him.
I’m glad I waited 18 years to write this, because this summer has been a particularly tough one for many in our extended family. Several people have lost children. A cousin of mine lost her daughter in a tragic accident, and another cousin lost his seven year old to a relentless brain cancer. It’s so hard to understand how God’s spares some and takes others. It’s so easy to feel angry and question a God who would allow these things to happen. But, in those times of great unrest, we have to remember the gifts and the miracles we have seen.
Grief tends to leave you reaching for an answer and someone to blame, but ultimately you’re left with no answers. I don’t think it’s in our realm of comprehension to ever understand. I know that ache so deep in the heart left after losing a loved one feels like nothing will ever heal it. Grief is something we just have to walk through. One day at a time. After awhile, time does have a way of healing the hurt, so we can go on to see the blessings taking place all around us.
Keeping faith allows the heart to stay open enough to notice the little miracles. In times of tears, times of joy, and times of deep thought. If our heart is open, we will feel our loved ones spirit touch us somehow. So, don’t struggle. Keep faith. Trust. Hang on to your memories. As time goes on, the pain will ease, and it’s okay. It’s okay to feel okay again. All the beautiful memories will remain. Smile, and keep them alive in your heart, until you meet again.
