I interrupt the regular program to bring you this special announcement….all routine posts for this month is preempted so I might be apart of the largest Blogosphere party ever. Normal posting will resume next month like clock work (I hope). Meanwhile, I invite you to stick around to enjoy the #AprilA2Z fun!
This song holds a special place in my heart cause he ain’t heavy, his my brother!
In the picture with me is my baby brother, JC. My grandma passed this photo to me. I forgot about it until recently when I stumbled across a small package she mailed me several years ago. Happily, I scanned the images to my computer for safe keeping.
That chair holds a very fond memory. I remember sitting in it mid-April 1966 with my face pushed against the glass anticipating my parents return home with a special present.
At the time, my grandparents lived in a little holler called Groundhog in Jolo, West Virginia. Their house sat on a small hill and the driveway was long. From that window, anyone could see who was coming to visit. I was antsy waiting in excitement to catch first glimpse of their car. I remembered the second I did I shot out of that chair like a cat on fire. Grandma heard the commotion and yelled for me to stay indoors, but I didn’t listen. I ran down the stairs, out the front door, and down the steep dirt road like a cheetah.
Breathlessly wearing a ginormous smile on my face and eyes bigger than the moon I wanted to see the gift they had in tow. Daddy presented a tiny wrapped form for a closer inspection. Mesmerized, I instantly fell in love with my baby brother.
We were close friends in our early childhood years. The age difference was felt by the time I reached my teens, but I was always played the big sister role looking after him. I married young and moved away. We weren’t super close as adults. Our personal lives took different directions, but I tried to build our relationship every chance I got through letters, cards, calls, and visits.
The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
JC turned his back on our religious upbringing. His rebel spirit clouded his judgement. He filled his life with bad habits and people. He was a good person. His soul was precious to God and me. There wasn’t a day or night I didn’t carry him in my prayers. At times, I would wake from sleep with JC on my mind. I always felt this was God’s way of saying, pray for your brother ~ he’s in trouble.
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
You know the old saying, there are consequences to your actions? Poor decision landed him in hot water many times. During those years of insurrection, he was seriously injured by a hit and run driver (yes, we know who did this and was caught) messing up two vertebra in his neck. I’d like to say this was a wake up call for him, but it took several years afterwards before he began questioning his own mortality before reconciling with God.
The pain was excruciating. After exhausting all medical options, it was clear nothing more could be done. The injury was a persistent pain and it would eventually kill him. The doctor said he would likely suffocate in his sleep. However, that wasn’t his demise.
One evening after sharing a good time with his youngest daughter(DN#3) and wife something terribly went wrong. DN#3 went home for the night (long story short, my parents adopted two of his daughters). JC took a shower and settled on the sofa playing with his handgun. He loved to hunt. Guns were his passion. His wife left the room to start the laundry when she heard the gun discharge.
The unthinkable happened. JC shot himself. Intentional? I don’t know. Accidental? That’s what we hoped. It took the EMT more than an hour to arrive and by that time he was dead. The emergency vehicles woke my parents. The world came crashing down that night!
Alcohol, pain medication, and guns don’t mix well. None of us will ever know what happened in the last seconds of JC life. It’s not my place to second guess or judge.
Unlike past nights, when God woke me nudging me to pray for my brother, I did not get a wake up call that evening. I believe God uses bad situations, like this accidental shooting to allow my baby brother to slip from this life to the next. The pain was too great and it was simply his time.
If I’m laden at all
I’m laden with sadness
That everyone’s heart
Isn’t filled with the gladness
Of love for one another
JC is in heaven free of pain. One day I will see my brother again.
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother
Let’s get our minds off sad farewells and think happy thoughts, why not join me as I visit some super people taking part in this cool month long challenge!