One Year Ago Today

This morning I am thinking about the life-changing, heartbreaking experience I was facing exactly one year ago today.  I was standing helplessly by the side of my brother, Andy, in the intensive care unit.  A team of nurses flew in and out of the room trying one thing after another.  In retrospect, I suppose they wouldn’t have allowed me to be standing there, holding his hand and singing to him, unless they realized there really was not much else they could do.  One of the nurses said, “The doctor is on his way.”  Another nurse began to explain how suddenly things had changed.  He said of my brother, “He wasn’t concerned about himself.  He just kept saying, ‘Call my family.’”  I think he intended that bit of information to be comforting, but it truly broke my heart.  “Why hadn’t I stayed with him longer last night?” I wondered.  I remember feeling conflicted as my other siblings started to arrive, each of them saying “goodbye” to Andy.  On one hand, I felt compassion for their grief.  On the other hand, I was angry that they were giving up.  And they seemed unfazed by my announcement that the doctor was on his way.  With all the hope I could muster, I tried to block out the sights and sounds of the respirator.  I tried to shift my attention from the sorrowful countenances all around me.  I tried to pray.  I wondered if Andy could feel me holding his hand.  I wondered if he could hear me singing to him.  I wondered if he was aware that we were all there.  I wondered if he was still there.  Once the doctor arrived and made his grim announcement, I relinquished my façade of strength and optimism, and I wept.  I wondered what in the world I was supposed to do without my big brother, my friend, my confidant, my pastor, my other single sibling, my “person.”  I wondered if my faith would survive this.  I wondered if I would ever really be happy again.  As I reflect on the grace and healing that have filled my life over the past year, I see that my faith was not destroyed.  On the contrary, it been strengthened.  I can remember Andy now, without completely falling apart…his wit and humor, his wisdom, his strength, his kindness, and his love for me.  Most of all, I remember the prayers we prayed together, and it gives me great hope.  It makes me look forward to blessings and answered prayers for which I will be giving thanks one year from now.