Angel Brother

Amy and I sat on either side of Jordan's bed, rubbing his chilly feet and marveling at the heat we felt when we touched my brother's legs, half a foot above his swollen feet.

Jordan was dying.

It was Saturday, October 10, 2009, and my cousin Amy and I had flown to see my big brother before the end came. Amy had recently become engaged, so we had hoped to see each other in more favorable circumstances, but Jordan's cancer had rapidly and unexpectedly spread too far. As it turned out, neither of us would have passed up that short weekend with Jordan for anything.

As we talked quietly by the side of the hospital bed in the front room, trying to hide our tears so that Jordan would not feel worse about leaving us, we watched Jordan drift softly in and out of sleep. The peace on my angel of a brother's face was astonishing, like he was once again the little boy two years older than me, rather than a twenty-two-year-old man with a mustache. He smiled in his sleep.

Those of us who were gathered around Jordan--my parents, my two sisters and my other two brothers, my dad's parents, Amy, two of Jordan's college friends, and I--found that it was hard to be anywhere but at home. True, it was hard to see Jordan hurting and not be able to sooth his pain, but the peace that overflowed in our home could not be found anywhere else. There were a lot of tears, but so much more laughter.

As Jordan would reach up to Dad with his thin arms, wrap his arms around Dad's neck, and let himself be slowly drawn to his feet, just to sit in a wheelchair and be with the rest of us, I could not help but think of a little one, just as helpless as Jordan, holding up his arms to be held and loved.

By the time Amy and I had to leave on Monday morning, Jordan wasn't able to get up as often, and it was much harder for him to move. Amy and I helped Jordan get untangled from his clothes and covers, and then we could do nothing more than to just say our good-byes and remember the pure life he had led.

Wednesday morning, the 14th, Jordan passed away, on our brother Nathaniel's sixteenth birthday. I watched him sleep, the sleep of death, with a look of immense peace on his angelic face, before we buried him.

Yet, I did not lose my brother. He is with me still; I feel him there, by my side, every hour of every day, and he is happy now, no longer trapped by his weak body. God is so good.