
Steve:
On this day three years ago, you left us. You fought so hard. You never gave up, until you had to. You sat there, in your bed, lifeless for the last two weeks of your life. Cancer had ravished your body to a tiny, skeletal frame. Yet, on the day you transformed into a spiritual being, you were able to utter your last words to Mom. “Take care of my family,” you said. Mom then gave you the blessing to stop fighting, to stop worrying and to stop trying… and just go. Go be with God. And you did.
That day will live with me forever. It was a day that changed our family in ways I would never have imagined. Your precious daughter, 10 years old, wondering what life was going to bring her next. Your other daughter, not yet born, would come into this world without her Dad. It didn’t make sense. Why would God do this to you? Why would God do this to us? Questions I will never solve.
So, three years later, where are we? Well, your daughters are gorgeous. I love my nieces. Presley and I are closer than ever before. Savannah, she’s growing up so quickly. I wish I could be home to see her grow up, but Mom and Dad keep me posted. And Mom and Dad? Well, I wish I could say they were better, but they’re not. It changed them in so many ways that only God’s grace has kept them moving forward. But we’re a strong family… you know that, especially you.
I’m still in Dallas. I wish you knew James. It’s been two years now… an amazing feat for me, huh? You would really like him. He reminds me of you sometimes (the stubborn part! hehe). I’m still dealing with losing my only brother and there are days I’m great. I’m strong. I have to be for Mom and Dad. Then there are days I lose it. Things don’t make sense. My anger doesn’t subside either with God. He and I are still battling it out, although I know, He will always win. I don’t hate him, though. I just am mad.
What gets me the most, now that you’re gone? I took your advice for granted when you were hear. Brotherly advice is something I crave. I want to know if my decision is right or wrong. I want to know someone is there to protect me, just like you did when I was little. I don’t have that anymore. Guess that’s part of life.
But I know you’re listening and that means everything to me. I hope you’re happy, I hope you’re filled with love and healing and I can’t wait to see you again. I love you.
Your lil bro,
Jeff