As I sit here in my beautiful new surroundings, enjoying the gorgeous views, I miss you. I miss that you weren’t here for Demo Day, even though I know you wouldn’t have been anyway! You would’ve been camping and asking me why I always do these things on a holiday weekend; as if I had a choice on this one. Regardless of what you are not here for, I know you are always with us. I know you would be thrilled about my new home. You would really love it. You would be here to do other things for me; like put up our ceiling fans. You promised to do that task for me after Rich died, because he was the one that put them up and took them down every time we moved. You would question the parking, because you always told me to be sure to find a place that you could park your truck and trailer when you come to visit. I’m on a short street, with a cul-de-sac, and on a hill. But you would take on that challenge and besides you would back into my driveway, which is long enough for your truck and trailer! But each and every time I drive over the three speed bumps, I hear your voice in my head calling them “big a$$ speed bumps” and you surely wouldn’t love them! But you love me and you would love our new home.
You would love to see “D” driving, putting up his own projector screen, fixing random things, helping mom, and working side by side with Bryan. You took him under your wing when his dad died, and he felt that loss when you died. You would absolutely love Bryan’s place and would have a million ideas of what he should do with the property, but you would love his ideas too! You are a good son, BJ, and a good brother, father, and friend. That does not mean you were perfect, none of us are. But you were good and loving to all of us when you were on Earth, and you are still good to us with the memories you left us with.
Today, I have really been reflecting on my thankfulness that all the loss I have endured has been relatively quick. I think of the families that go through months of diagnosis, pain, treatments, and they know what is coming…they just don’t know when. I cannot even imagine that kind of torture. I miss you with all my heart, but I am so grateful that you died so quickly. That you didn’t endure months, days, hours, or even many minutes of pain. I praise and thank Jesus for that. I wasn’t allowed to see you and say good-bye, but I was spared seeing you in a hospital bed on your death bed. I had hours and days of earth-shattering grief at your loss, but I had months of strength-growing life prospective foresight. I didn’t know how much strength I had, until being strong was the only choice I had.
