Our family has lost another; my older brother and youngest of the men in our family has passed away recently. Although we don’t know exactly when or why; we do know he is gone. Can we say he’s in a better place? Unfortunately, I cannot say that beyond a shadow of a doubt. I certainly pray that by God’s grace he was saved from an eternity of torment and demons. Did he suffer in the end? We don’t know that either. We know he wasn’t homeless at the end, but we know he was alone.
Charles D. Antonsen, known to his family as “Chip” and to others as “Chuck” turned 61 last November. In his early adulthood he chose to dismantle himself from the family. He decided when he would keep in touch and with whom he would contact. We all agree, that through the years, there was strong evidence of undiagnosed mental health issues. We do not know what a diagnosis would have revealed or how it may have changed his life. Chip lived much of his life through the fantasy “stories” he told. As his siblings, it was difficult to know what was true and what was not. Much of the time, we just “understood” his life events to be fabricated.
There was much heartache and torment, not for just him, but for the family he “chose” to interact with. He could tell us things that pulled on our hearts, even though in our minds, we knew they were not true. We often went years without communication from him. I am even guilty of ignoring some of his attempts to reach out to me over recent years. “I was living in grief. How could I possibly deal with listening to his stories!?”
After his several attempts at communication, on November 24, just six days before his last birthday I was nudged to respond to him. Thank you, God! We exchanged a few messages and then had a two-hour conversation. He sounded good, but then again, I had not spoken with him in several years. I took things he said with a grain of salt and focused on his voice and how he sounded. It was hard to believe his “stories” and it was just as hard not to believe them. I desperately wanted to believe he was in a good place and that he was living a good life, but evidence does not support my desires. Over the course of the next three months, I texted and spoke with him frequently; sometimes 3 or 4 times a week. He always sounded good, he never raised his voice at me, he did not speak negatively about anyone, and he did not use any profanity. Our conversations were often one sided and I soon realized he just needed to talk. He needed someone on the other end of the phone, someone that was listening. The last time we spoke was on our mother’s birthday, although…we did text after that and he left his last message to me on February 17th.
Chip, I hope you are freed from suffering and that you have the happiness now that you didn’t experience on earth. I hope one day to be reunited with you. R.I.P. my dear brother. Love…”sis”
