(My brother Tim’s last Facebook profile pic)

A piece of my heart is now in Heaven…

My not-so-little 26-year-old baby brother, Timothy, passed away on April 1st, basically from out of the blue, as I boarded my plane for a day-long trip from Vancouver, BC back to my hometown, Columbus, Ohio.  I was informed late on Sunday, April 30th that he was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, and while his heart had already stopped twice (once before the ambulance arrived, and once again during the ambulance ride), he fought strong to hold out two more days before making his final departure.

My older brother, younger sister, younger sister’s fiance, and I were all together for that first week of April to help support my parents, to figure out arrangements, and to attempt in the midst of all that to slowly begin grieving ourselves.  So many decisions to make following such a difficult loss. Although I realize that is pretty much how it must be in all cases of loved ones passing, this is my first experience of a loss hitting so close to home. (Made me want to start planning my own funeral now so there isn’t so much work to do after my passing, including drafting at least the boring parts of my obituary/biography, i.e. where I went to school, etc., but I have been convinced at least for now to leave this “privilege” for my surviving loved ones to take care of…)

Somehow we have all managed to get through, and we were able to arrange a funeral that was able to celebrate the remarkable young man Tim had been to so many different people, as well as bring peace to both parents (which was not the most easy thing to do based on decades-long tensions regarding religion and faith).

While my family is still trying to piece together everything that happened, trying to understand how such an unexpected loss could happen so suddenly and quickly, just a little bit over a month has passed now…

Needless to say, my mind, body, heart, soul and spirit have been preoccupied and taxed to the max this last while, and it’s taken me some time to recover while continuing to keep up with my daily family and community life to the best of my abilities. Literally, I’ve been taking (and planning most inefficiently) one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time… but happily, with the support of so many friends and my awesome husband and family, I have somehow made it through, even throwing a spontaneous BBQ as well as hosting a Baby Shower this past weekend (with positive feedback!), and I am ready to start writing again.

Really, so many, many, many thoughts that have been floating through my head all this while, which I suppose is to be expected when visited so close to home by death.

I have been thinking a lot about death itself, and the certainty of it as part of all life.  What is so uncertain is the timing of it, and the “how’s” and the “why’s,” and the aftermath that is left behind. When flying on the airplane back and forth above the clouds, I was reminded of the difference between viewing our world on the ground versus from in the air, how things are still what they are, but look different in light of the big picture you can see when you rise above the circumstances. What does it mean to have more and more of Heaven’s perspective invade our daily lives, not so that we get removed from life, but so that we are somehow empowered to live life better and fuller, in light of of the big picture and in light of eternity.

I have been reflecting on how my brother lived his life to the full in what “full” meant to him, each and every day of his 26 years.  I have been thinking about life for those of us remaining, and what it would mean to be living it in a way that makes it worth celebrating regardless of how many days–short or long–we may have ahead of us.  That to live a “good life” doesn’t require choosing “good” vs. “life” (“good” as in, being good, kind, thoughtful, honest, upright, hardworking, and “life” as in living it up, having fun and enjoying every day, remembering ourselves and honoring our hearts’ desires and needs and wants and feelings, etc.) — but involves somehow reconciling the two, such that one cannot exist without the other.

Perhaps most significantly, I have been reflecting on Tim’s life and how he understood the Father`s Heart of love for us. I had invited him after his high school graduation up here to attend my Church Youth Camp (when I was working as a full-time Youth Director prior to becoming a mom), and after one weekend, he was able to tell me matter-of-factly that he had felt God`s presence and love for the first time, and decided to become a Christian. It was such a simple, no-brainer for him, even though he really had not grown up in church at all, but if anything, had so many reasons to not want to have anything to do with church and religion since it was constant sticking point in my parents’ marriage.

I realized as I was preparing for his funeral that of course this was an easy recognition and decision for him, because of how close he was to his earthly dad (yes, my earthly dad too — but as Tim was born much later than myself and my other siblings, his experience of “family” was markedly different for him–basically, he came and grew up after much of the drama of my family’s past was already passed).

Tim’s unwavering loyalty to my dad — to follow my dad, to serve my dad, to help my dad carry out his visions, to care for my dad when he was sick — was all motivated by love. There was no fear, no guilt and therefore no “obligation” in his relationship with my dad (and mom). None of the oppressive fear and guilt and false burden so many of us unfortunately end up experiencing when it comes to relating to our parents. In Tim’s own words to me (when I had a heart to heart with him to make sure he didn’t feel “stuck” in our hometown as he entered young adulthood), my dad is the one who was always there for him, who did everything for him, and who was his constant supporter, mentor, teacher, companion — “father” — so why wouldn’t he want to likewise be there for my dad?

Tim knew with no doubt whatsoever in his heart and mind that his earthly father loved him unconditionally, and was for him, not against him — so it wasn`t much of a stretch to him to understand that our Heavenly Father loves us in this same way, only even more supernaturally perfectly, constantly, and eternally.  And that this is a great thing, a gift, not an oppressive, religious burden.

To be more like Tim, I hope to continue to grow in learning how to truly receive the Father’s Heart of Love for us, to fuel my ability to just “be” comfortable in my own skin, and to be the foundation that enables me to love others as I learn to truly love myself.

My not-so-little younger brother’s life may have been much shorter than any of us would have liked or hoped, but the way he lived his 26 years, he lived them amazingly well, and in such a way that he has left all of us behind blessed and better off than we ever could have been without having had him in our lives.

He has taken a piece of all of our hearts with him to Heaven, but I believe that he has also left imprints upon the remaining portions of our hearts, so that we may be ever-more-so empowered and inspired to make the most of the lives and relationships we each continue to have the privilege to steward and enjoy.