One of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned happened on and from the day my brother passed on. Before you read this, if you are bracing yourself for a painful read, think again.

As of the day before, my brother, Sturg (as we affectionately call him) had been progressing very nicely. He was responding to my parents and though he was in a long-term care hospital, he was doing relatively well. At the time, no one had even brought up the possibility of his not making it through this.

I don’t know what I did the night before. I remember going to bed on the late side, and when I heard my phone go off the next morning, it was late enough so that for a brief moment, I thought it was my alarm. I quickly realized that it was the ringtone I’ve assigned to my mom’s cell phone number.

I knew before I picked up that if she was calling me at 5:20 in the morning, it wasn’t going to be good news. I won’t relive the moment of her telling me, but I was so shocked I hoped it was just a really bad dream I was having. I can also tell you that I’ve never gone into hysterics that quickly since I badly scraped my knee when I was little. She told me that she and my dad were together and that they were with Sturg – even though he was no longer with them.

I quickly told my mom I wanted to be with them. I just needed to call my boss and tell her I wasn’t coming in. I think in my mom’s slightly delirious state, she somehow thought it would still be okay for me to go to work.

I called my boss. I remember that originally she was supposed to be in Houston and meeting with me later that morning, but because of flight delays, she was actually somewhere in Europe when I called. She picked up on the first ring. I was somehow able to blubber out the news, and she felt so bad, she cried and told me not to worry about work and to just take care of myself.

After that, I called a very dear and close friend. I needed someone praying for me and for this day. I had no idea what was in store for me, but I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. This very dear friend had some comforting Bible verses to share and was calm, comforting, and loving. I was so grateful to talk to her.

I sat for a beat in my bathroom and let myself absolutely sob. After several minutes, all I wanted to do was calm down enough so that I could drive up to Tomball where Sturg had been getting care for the last 3 weeks and where I knew I could find my parents in the hotel room they had been residing in while Sturg regained his strength.

To calm down, I took a shower. Even though it was summer, the warm water felt soothing on my skin. During that time, I prayed. I just wanted to feel close to God and to know that Sturg was okay. I reasoned that if Sturg was okay, I would be okay.

I quickly changed, fed my cat, and I was out the door very quickly. As I pulled onto the highway, I wanted to talk to someone and so I actually called my former mother-in-law. Most of my ex-husband’s friends call her Mama Lowe, so that’s what I’ll call her here. I knew by looking at the time that it would be almost 4 in the morning where she was on the west coast, but I wanted to talk to her. It was worth a shot.

She picked up on the first ring. Her voice seemed to sing through the phone. I told her what had happened. Mama Lowe had lost her son – my former brother-in-law – a few years ago and I knew that as someone who had lost a son herself, she might understand why I wanted to talk to her before I got to my mother. I didn’t know how my mom was responding, but I wanted to be able to be there for her instead of selfishly needing her all day.

Mama Lowe was so sweet and assured me that my mom was strong and anything we needed to get through, we would get through as a family and that God was leading and guiding us the whole way. She also recommended that we get off the phone and that I talk with Sturg.

As I clicked off, I thought about everything I wanted to say to him. Everything I wanted to tell him, all the doubts I had, the darkness I felt without him, the fact that I missed him, and most importantly, that he was an amazing brother and I would always love him.

I said it all, and then some. In those cathartic moments, I knew I was healing already.

—

During that morning, there seemed to be a weird vortex of time that seemed to stop while all of this was going on.

It was 5:16 AM when my mom called to tell me Sturg had passed on. Since then, I had talked to 3 different people on the phone, taken a long shower, fed the cat, gotten in the car and was already well on my way to Tomball by the time I was calling Mama Lowe, but it was only 5:45. I had no idea how all of that could happen in 29 minutes. The only thing I could reason was that God was creating a window for me to get to my parents quickly.

As I thought about that, I didn’t know how, but I knew that God was already providing a day of miracles and that He was going to find little ways to show me that He was there – guiding me every step of the way.

For example, I didn’t feel like I was driving my car. It seemed like I was outside the car watching everything happen around me. I was almost in disbelief that I felt so well, so upbeat, so full of hope. I didn’t know what it meant or what to think about it, but I knew that this strength was coming from God, and I instantly felt very grateful for it.

From the conversation I had with Sturg, I felt like he was still here. The air felt very much alive, almost magical. I had no idea what was coming, but I was grateful for this peaceful moment that God was providing.

As I continued to drive, I suddenly realized that I was at my parents’ hotel. It was still pretty early in the morning. As I walked through the hotel lobby, I felt like I was in a daze. It felt strange that the rest of the world was still carrying on as though nothing had changed. I punched the button in the elevator, found myself running down the hall, and knocking on my parents’ door where I found my mom waiting for me.

The moment she let me in, I felt myself pulled into a tight bear hug with both of my parents. We all stood there – tightly wrapped up in each other and we all cried. It was a quiet moment. No one sobbed, but we all silently wept. It made me feel like we were already healing, and healing as a family.

The rest of the day was a blur of phone calls, texts, emails, you name it. I talked to dozens of people I hadn’t talked to in months (sometimes years), and though I wasn’t happy about the reason, it felt so good to have so many people who just wanted to love us. I remember I even had one friend who was in Canada for work and was in an area with terrible cell reception. The second he received my text with the news, he hiked out a bit from where he was meeting with his work team just so he could talk to me for 5 minutes. That one meant a lot to me.

I was floored by the outpouring of love we received that day. I think because I already had the love from the people I needed it from the most, everyone else’s love felt like extra.

It was hard to convey that we were okay. We missed him tremendously, but we were all so clear that he was with God in a better place. We could all feel it. We discussed it over and over as we rehashed the plethora of happy memories we had of him. There was no doubt in our minds that he was doing great, and that realization let us feel peaceful.

Near the close of the day, my dad and I still needed to pick up overnight bags so we could spend the night at the hotel. We left my mom on the phone with her sister and drove back down to Houston. We talked exclusively about happy memories of Sturg. It felt so good just to love him and remember him exactly as we had always known him, and it was so cathartic to talk about him so freely. We both had our moments when our voices would break and one of us would comfort the other.

When we arrived at my parents’, it felt weird knowing I would never see Sturg in this house again. I’d never come in and find him sitting in his favorite spot in the living room, or on the chair in his room, or sitting “crisscross applesauce” atop one of the kitchen stools the way that only his lithe little body would allow.

I sat down on the couch in the living room and looked out the window. Appropriately, it was sunny and peaceful outside. The pillow that Sturg always used to hug was sitting beside me. I took a big whiff and buried my face into it, crying all over again. It smelled exactly like him. I didn’t know how long the smell would last (a while as it turned out), but I was grateful that it smelled like him just then.

As my dad and I drove back up to Tomball to join up with my mom, the most beautiful sunset I had seen all summer unfolded in front of our car. Plus, as God would have it, there seemed to be pillars of clouds in front of us: 3 larger ones with a smaller one that looked like it was catching up. We took it to mean that Sturg was with my 3 grandparents who had gone before us.

While we were watching the sunset, my mom had gone for a walk back at the hotel. She had seen the same image in the clouds, too. I loved that all three of us received the same message about our sweet Sturg. It made us feel warm amidst this day that I had thought would be so dark.

Each decision we made about Sturg, we made as a family. We didn’t go by societal rules. We took each day at a time. We were gentle and patient with each other. We found strength in our little family. We decided we didn’t want a funeral. Instead, we wanted to honor his life with a memorial service in a few months’ time. We chose to do it a few days before Thanksgiving – his favorite feast of the year.

After we returned home, people began visiting us in small, intimate gatherings. These beautiful one-on-one visits allowed us time to be quiet but still welcome in the overflow of love that had begun during the previous days.

What I love is that our family’s situation doesn’t have to be an exception to the rule. If you ever see the three of us and wonder how we’ve weathered this storm so seemingly easily, you now have the basics of why.

I cannot express enough the importance of gratitude. Look for even the most minute things that make you happy. Even if it’s a pen that you love that writes really well, the way the sunshine hits a spot in your home, the colors of the sunrise, a happy memory, a phone call from someone you’re fond of, etc. Believe me, once you start, it’s hard to stop. What I didn’t realize until this day was how much it would help me in the long run. The gratitude that began the day Sturg passed on has carried through to today and wondering what miraculous thing today has to offer.

I’m so grateful for the 29 years I spent with Sturg. He taught me how to be happy, how to love unconditionally, a little mischief is a good thing, and the occasional leaning on others when needed isn’t a weakness but a strength. God knew what he was doing when He gave my parents that precious boy all those years ago. If it had to be that he’s the only sibling I would ever know, I’m grateful I only knew Sturg. He enjoyed pushing my buttons, but he was kind and he loved me with all of his heart.

And for that, I couldn’t ask for more.