My brother died yesterday afternoon. I was amazed at how long he lived after his doctor thought he had days or maybe a week to live. He was super tough.
On Thursday at work, I kept thinking about him over and over. It came to me fiercely that I had one more chance to see him alive.
After work, I booked a flight and took the bus to the airport. I keep an emergency bag in my desk at work, so I have the essentials with me—toothbrush, razor, a pair of socks, a pair of unmentionables, and a few other things. In a little over two hours, I was on a non-stop flight to LAX.
I finally arrived at my brother's side a little before 10 that night, I think. He responded almost imperceptibly, but I know he knew I was there. I spoke to him for something close to a half and hour. I talked to him about all kinds of things. I spoke to him quietly.
I stayed late talking to Mark's saintly fiancée. I mean that. I don't know anyone who could have done for my brother what she did. It was amazing. I am so grateful.
She has a beautiful engagement ring on her left hand, but my brother got too sick before their plans could gel, and they were not able to have the ceremony. I believe in my heart that their love is eternal and that they will be together again in the next life. I believe that all our losses will be made up in the resurrection.
I got to bed in my Priceline hotel room after 2:00 AM.
I was able to see him again yesterday morning, but only briefly. He was barely breathing. I knew he would be gone that day. I kissed him and bid him a tender farewell.
I believe my brother was greeted by loved ones and ushered free at last to his true home. He was a kind, gentle, honest soul, good through and through.
Today is a day of a thousand memories, a thousand hopes.
God be with you until we meet again.