God's Time - My Brother is Gone

My brother Ed is gone - at peace at last with God and the angels after a valiant seven-month struggle with leukemia. He waited until I got up this morning to give him his regular meds, a little after 8:30AM... a third night of fitful sleep... waiting; 'til we lifted the window shades to let in the morning light; 'til our parents arrived. My mother touched his arm and his breathing simply... stopped. Free at last. His wife and my little niece (age five) were right there at his side in his own bed at home, all of us around him, reciting prayers together. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Last night we toasted to Ed's life, circled 'round the bed. His wife put a drop of his favorite single malt scotch (The Macallan) on his lips. At that, he raised the corner of his mouth in the way he always did when he grinned mischievously, then moved his tongue side-to-side to indicate he was there with us, enjoying the moment - and the whisky. That was a huge effort on his part, but there was no ambiguity. He was still there - a small, low pilot light.

Thursday our hospice nurse came by. She has seen a lot of this. She assured us, from myriad small signs that Ed was OK - the meds calibrated just right to let him go when he was ready... on his own time (or rather, God's.)

An aide gently bathed him in bed, then shaved his face and put on his favorite cologne. Late in the morning, a CD arrived from a dear friend via Fedex with instructions to play a specific track. We did and it was... beautiful... soothing... astounding... tears and hugs and healing from 3000 miles away.

On Wednesday at 5AM the hospice nurse told us half an hour. He beat that by more than two days. Why the extra time? Why the Energizer Bunny effect? ("still going...") Why did the finish line seem to fade back and back again with each passing hour? Why did we need to stumble on through three very dark nights?

I don't know. Here's a guess...

We each thought at various points, that we had done enough to fulfill God's purpose in this drama: said enough goodbyes, asked for and received sufficient forgiveness, expressed well enough our loves left dormant for too long. But with each hour, more of God's mystery unfolded around us: a huge tray of sausage lasagna showed up on the doorstoop, friends called, wrote, or simply prayed. Friends of friends... of friends heard about us and held us quietly in prayer - their energy felt so profoundly for its being optional: a choice to feel and salve our pain.

Those sitting vigil learned how to love one another just a little more deeply - to pause before passing judgment, to forgive a little more quickly, to ask and listen just a little more. Even as our nerves frayed and the bags under our eyes grew deeper, the rough edges seemed to rub off. God's purpose. God's plan. Goodness through hardship. Purpose through broken things.

A doctor called - not to talk about medical things, but to express human compassion and participate in this sad tale - part of which she'd lived so well with us. My niece wandered into the room and said something amazing... and then something else, and something else again. "Mommy, what color are souls?" She has learned more than she knows, borne witness to something she needed to see: beautiful as it is tragic.

Another friend e-mailed midway through the drama to tell of the joyous birth of his child on Wednesday - a child wanted so much for so long... a child who took her time to make herself nascent in her mother's womb, after years of yearning by her parents. God's time. It is not ours to know. It cannot be scheduled. It just... is. We must stand still and quiet, waiting in awe and wonder.

Recent posts on my brother:
A Dark Night (and Another... and Another)
Brushing Back Fear
La Vita è bella
God's Special Delivery Service
My Friend 'G'
Frozen Sunshine (including all previous links back to when he got sick in March)