Friday, October 15 (2 days before his 45Th birthday) my brother, David, died. He was brother number 6 of 7; and sibling number 9 of eleven. He is the first of my siblings to pass away.
David was more than just a brother to me, he was also my surrogate baby. When he (and the 2 siblings after him) was born, our mother worked nights, so his crib was set up in my bedroom. From early afternoon to breakfast I cared for him as well as my other siblings. For awhile, David thought I was his mother. He seemed to cling to me more than the others in that he never wanted me out of his sight.
David recovered from an extensive surgery on Tuesday, and appeared to be doing fine. I was at work when I received the call that David had died, I was stunned. In unbelief I threw myself into my work, working non-stop till it was time to punch out.
On my way home I stopped at the church, ran into the sanctuary, and kneeled before the presence of the Lord and began to worship Him in prayer, praise and song.
The stress of David's death intensified as the family struggled with planning his funeral which changed several times before it was finally settled to be held tomorrow.
Wednesday evening, I turned off my phone, made a pot of herbal tea, lit some candles, wrapped myself in a soft blanket, reclined in my chair and meditated on the goodness of God to my family. It was during this time that I came to grips with my brother's passing, and found relief from feuding siblings over our brother's remains.
David's body is an empty shell----he's gone into the presence of the Lord.
The medical staff said when he transpired, there was no trembling, jerking, or struggle; just a peaceful exhale, and he was gone. Before his demise, he made amends with God and his girlfriend; he saw his baby, and he left me a message that he loved me.
For me, Wednesday evening was the funeral for my brother, held in the privacy of my apartment between me and the Lord. I take comfort in knowing that I will see my baby brother again.
