Today is seven years since the last birthday we celebrated together, eating hamburgers and french-fries (your favorite meal). It was a small, simple birthday celebration; just us and your sister and brother. You were not feeling well and I was concerned that something was wrong with your shunt. You had a headache that got progressively worse in the continuing days. But you were a trooper; no complaints; bringing a smile to us even in your own discomfort. We celebrated your day quietly, thinking next year would be a better birthday for you and glad, so very glad, we had celebrated your 30th, the year before, with a big costume party.

Within 3 weeks of this celebration we lost you in death, and before the month is over I will be remembering another day seven years ago, much more painfully. For the past seven years, that day, that week, would push for room in my memories of your life, but today I push back. I have shared those memories many times, but not today.

It is a choice, to remember and celebrate; to remember and cherish; to remember so we do not forget. Today, on your birthday, I will choose to remember your smile; I will remember your laughter and the simplicity of your soul, the fullness of you heart, the gentleness of your spirit.

I will remember how you hugged me every day, and told me too often to count, how much you loved me. The joy you gave me, such deep joy and happiness I cannot give justice to it in words alone. I will remember and cherish how you made me smile, how you made me smile from a place deep within, that could not be contained. But above all, I will remember the unconditional love you gave to everyone you met, without exception, expectation, or want on your part; just pure generous love for another person, no matter who they were.

I can still hear your voice in my head and I hope never to lose it, never to forget its nuance and tone; and I remember how we would sing in the car, rambling words, to every song on the radio, off key, especially “Oldies but Goodies.” And when daddy George was in the car, he would ask you if you liked that song, and when you would answer yes, he would say “so do I, so stop singing it” and laugh.

I see your smile in my minds-eye; and when saying good-night to your picture in the hall, I will turn my head to see your ghost dance across the kitchen floor, snapping your fingers together castanet style as you would like to do. I remember you snuggling with me in bed and getting cozy-wozy as we watched “I Love Lucy” reruns or a favorite movie you knew all the words to, words you would repeat before they were spoken on the screen to everyone’s annoyance, but mine. Funny that never annoyed me, only made me laugh and look at you in wonder on how you could remember such dialog.

I remember Saturday mornings kicking back with you, just laying with my arm under you and you curled across me as we talked nonsense about anything and everything, how I teased you and you would put your hands on your hips, tilt your head to the side, and say “Ah Mudder”; and I would laugh and reach for you to hug, because I could never hurt you, or cause you to feel hurt by anything you might misunderstand.

I remember how your brother made you breakfast on some Saturday mornings, although he was so much younger than you, and if you didn’t like it he would get so mad and take the plate back in the kitchen, mumbling how he made it just the way you liked it; and I would have to go console him and thank him for his efforts at being a good brother.

I remember coming home from work each evening, and if I was on time, you were usually watching "Malcolm in the Middle", but you would get up to come give me some gift from you. Something you made or found, saying it was especially made for me, only for me to find out that you had already given it to daddy George when you first got home from Easter Seal. Then to top it off, if someone came over, the gift would be three-peated to that person, who was told that it was especially made, or found for them. We would all laugh and tease about what a great re-gift giver you were.

I miss those days. I miss seeing you at the dinner table eating and enjoying the food your daddy George cooked. I miss giving you your nightly bath and trying to shave you without nicking you and then brushing your teeth as you said ouch, because my touch is not so soft.
And I remember with deep joy, the day we told you your sister was going to have a baby and the look on your face of awe and happiness. And then the day Cash came home and you wanted to hold him and your sister without hesitation placed him in your arms. I remember that moment and the way you looked down on your new nephew with your beautiful smile so full of tenderness.

Today on your birthday I will cherish these memories; and I know the more I remember them the more others will come back to me, one will lead into another. I will laugh today and I will cry today; I will cry a lot today. But today I will be grateful and feel blessed above all things that you were my son, my very special son for 31 years and 18 days. I will remember all you did to brighten our world and I will try to honor your life by living, if only for a moment each day, as you did, making our world a brighter place, a kinder place and maybe helping someone feel special for having experienced you, through me.

What a big job that will be for me. But it is my present to you on this day. It is a way for me to start celebrating your life as I still grieve your death. With time maybe the former will finally take the greater place over the latter. What greater gift could I bestow on you my son, than this one? To celebrate your life and cherish your memories can only bring us the peace we need, to wait patiently for our time together again. You are ‘A Son Remembered’

Happy Birthday my beloved Brian, until we meet again kisses to heaven from Mudder

Today I add a new post, a new blog for your website. Today I add a new chapter in our continued journey through your life and death. But I am not looking back in grief today. No, today I am looking forward, looking toward the future. Is it time? Yes, I can believe it is and that is good. I follow the paving steps as GOD lays them out in front of me. Certainly I probably, would never have paved this path for myself. Well maybe some parts; or most parts, but definitely not the path I traveled this last week. Then again, would I be writing this post if I had not traveled that road? No I wouldn’t. And this post is also important.

Today is a celebration. Through grief and sorrow, unbearable pain and heartache, a rainbow can appear and make you smile and believe. Help you reminisce about the positives and give you hope for more to come; such as celebrating a second birthday for someone special, in the same year, but months apart.

Today, 6-years ago, on November 23, 2009; your right kidney saved a young man’s life. He was 18 years old at that time, today he is 24 and he gave me permission to post some of his information.

Your recipient was born with an extremely rare condition called Senior-Loken Syndrome. Only about 150 cases are listed in the medical journals and in his State (Utah) only 2 other people have this rare condition. The most prevalent consequences of this disease, is how it affects the kidneys and the eyes. Doctors told his mother that by the time, her son reached the age of 18 he would need a kidney transplant, and at the age of 18, true to form, it is exactly what he needed. His condition has also caused him to become legally blind. I am told it is like looking at the world through the pin-hole sized opening, at the end of a straw.

He was actually the very first recipient of yours to send a letter to us and this holds a very special place in my heart. I have attempted to write about our first meeting in August in Utah, but have been delayed with writers block. Maybe this story was meant to be shared only after this week of deep sorrow. Maybe it was meant to be shared now to bring brightness and hope and a smile across my face and the face of your loving family, after such a tear-filled week.

Maybe it was necessary that almost 6 -years had to pass before we got the opportunity to meet; and that amount of time was needed, to enable us the ability to step back, and rejoice with him and his family the gift of life you gave to them.

When we received notice that your name would be etched on the Celebration of Life Donor Monument in Utah, we were so proud and happy. The Monument honors all donors with a Utah connection. And I believe his mother, must have been instrumental in getting your name placed on that Monument.  Six hundred donors were honored that day. By letter I had informed the family that we would be attending the event. I hoped against hope that they would receive the letter and also wish to attend, but I understand how each recipient and donor family must do what is best for them. Lucky for us, they felt exactly as we did; and wanted to meet us, as much as we wanted to meet them.

When I was first introduced to your kidney recipient, the smile on my face became almost as big as the smile I always had for you. He was easy to hug. I could not help myself and kept placing my hand upon his arm or shoulder. I had to literally remind myself to pull my hand away so as not to seem so intrusive to his personal space.

I would ask him if I was crowding him; and to tell me if my hand on his shoulder was bothersome. He was so gracious and would say no it is okay, it didn’t bother him. I think he was just being very kind to me. I immediately felt protective of him and guided him across the lawn to the Monument where your name was etched. Daddy George was brimmed with tears, but funny I wasn’t; I would have expected myself to be crumbling in joy, but my joy was just beaming out another way.

I had brought pins of you, picture buttons from the Donate Life Run/Walks and Float decorations events. I think I had 6 different buttons and I started handing them to him, saying would you like this, how about this one; I eventually just gave them all to him, which he kindly accepted. I also gave him my donate life green bracelet and your website bracelet.

His mother kept telling me thank you. That you saved her son’s life, but she didn’t need to tell me such things. I was so grateful that we could see how your gift gave such joy to another family; and how your gift gave a young man one less difficulty to worry about. We had such an immediate connection with the family, which opened up quite a few amazing connections between you and your recipient.

I already knew by letter that his maternal family name is “Ellis” as your paternal family name is also Ellis. He and his grandfather Ellis were very close. It is sad to write that his grandfather just recently died, but we did get to meet his grandmother Ellis. She is a beautiful lady in every way.

You were both born with special needs and rare birth conditions. His mother, as I did for you, worries about him constantly, his care, his safety and his father keeps a keen eye on him. It is obvious how deeply loved he is by his family.

Of all the hotels to stay in at Salt Lake City, the one that kept coming up as I was looking to book a room, was The Little America, which happens to have a mural painting in the restaurant of his great-great grandmother as a patron; additionally his great-great aunt was married to the Hotel Founder. We captured a picture of the mural before we left, and I remember hearing a child in the restaurant saying look at those people taking a picture of a picture. If only they knew the reason why?

Additionally, which I thought was truly a sign from you, was the coordinates for your name on the Monument, Panel #19/Line #25 – my birthday is Feb 19 and when I told your recipient this, he told me his birthday is Mar 25!  It couldn’t be more perfect.

We laughed and wondered at all this; was it ordained? Were we meant to meet? Did you foreshadow being his recipient, long before the 23rd of November? While this remained on my mind as simply remarkable coincidences, the other day, when starting this blog, I was thunderstruck as I recalled the words you said that night after surgery, on November 17, when you cried out “they’re blinding me; they’re blinding me!” I didn’t understand what was happening and thought the severe post-surgery headache you were suffering was blurring your vision, which could very well be true, but then again your kidney recipient is legally blind. Monica and I got shivers when we spoke about it the other day. I think I will leave it to the mystery and Grace of our Lord.

Your kidney was the 3rd try for your recipient. On the way to the hospital, he told his mother, this one will be a match. And it was. A life was saved. Two families met and are united together in prayer for a long healthy life for this young man. We consider your recipient family our family, joined together by you.

Hopefully we will be in Utah next spring/summer and the family may be out here in April. I know your hospital would like to get us together for a flag raising ceremony; I need to pursue that with the family. But meanwhile, we stay connected through text and Facebook, and little by little our families will get to know each another better. Our center orb is a young man, fighting his disability and youthful struggles, trying to find his way, to the life he wishes to live. I know you will always be watching over him. And I will always keep him in my prayers.

As a doctor told me once…‘you know some people believe in miracles’ I have come to believe miracles do happen. When so many thought you wouldn’t do much, you always served a purpose in life. To make us smile, to make us laugh, to help us see the simpler joys in life, to love unconditionally and forgive easily.

Now that you are gone, I share you with the world. When you were alive I kept you to myself, because I felt it was the only way I could protect you. But, I was wrong. You touched lives without my knowledge while you lived and continue to do so today without my participation. Your Mission Statement below could never be truer than it is today. Love forever your Mother

“No matter your station in life, we all have the ability to touch the heart of another,
and make a difference in the life of someone else”
 

 

I love you my son. You have such a purpose. GOD said you needed to be here when others said it couldn't happen, and even in death you continue to teach us all the value of life, no matter your station, no matter if others say you cannot contribute, you show that yes everyone, anyone, can make a difference in the lives of others.



http://www.pihhealth.org/wellness/blog/gift-of-life/

I have been meaning to post this on your blog, but time got away, as always. Truly, it is just me letting time slip by. That is something I need to change. I need to post to this page and no longer on your Face Book page when I wish to remember you or just talk to you.  Your cousin Christopher died last month. His service was June 5th. It was a beautiful service and he has a lovely resiting place. The week he died we were celebrating the 100th birthday of Daddy George's mother. Chris was 40 years old, I never knew this, but his birthday is also in November the same as yours. His is November 28th. These are Gods mysteries... some of us live long long lives, giving joy to their families for many years while others, like you and Chris, are taken too soon from those that love them.

Chris and you had a wonderful relationship. What I wanted to write on your blog was the story of his coming to visit you when you had just been released from the hospital after your first surgery; when we all believed the recovery was just a process to complete and that within another week you would be back at Easter Seals. Instead, that next week had you returning to the hospital, never to come home again.  That was five and a half years ago. It seems like just yesterday and then again,  it seems like five and a half years as I count the days!

Chris shared with us a dream he had about you; and I want to share it here, because it was very prophetic and it is in some ways very comforting to me. He said, in his dream, that he (Chris) had died and went to heaven and  you were already there. He said you were wise and full of knowledge about life and the world. He said you were healthy and strong, not ill or handicapped any more. He said, you told him the secrets of the universe, that you knew things no one else knew or understood. He said, it was a great dream and it was amazing. I thought what a wonderful dream, how nice and special, but how weird that you were in heaven with Chris in a dream. A week later you died, and on May 26, 2015 Christopher's prophetic dream came true and he joined you.

I wonder if you greeted him; and if you indeed were full of the knowledge and wisdom of his dream, sharing the secrets of life with him. I believe that that is indeed what happened and that you are strong and healthy and very happy. I still worry about you needing me and me not being there to help you or protect you. That is my cross to bare until someday, GOD willing I will join you and Chris.

If comfort can be found between me and Aunt Ruth it is in the joy of thinking you two are together. She told me that you kept coming to her  in her dreams the week Chris was in the hospital. You would smile at her, not saying a word, just smiling at her.  She said you looked good. If you can send her and Uncle Paul comfort, please do. And petition in prayer for Corbin and Ethan, they lost their father at very young ages. It is a lifetime journey they have all just begun.  A very hard and sad journey. 💔

RIP Christopher, we will miss you, and we will always remember your generous, thoughtful, spirit. We will tell your boys (Corbin and Ethan) what a wonderful person their father was, you are their angel now. We love you. Brian, my son do me a favor and give Chris a hug and kiss from us, I am sure you knew he was coming to you before any of us did. Someday we will all see you both again.

I miss you so much. Kisses an hugs always...