I remember buying him his first miniature lumberjack jacket and pair of jeans as a baby gift, so he could some day be able to dress just like his Dad.
I remember how long his eyelashes were, and the little way of talking that was uniquely his.
I have been remembering all these things this past week, because it was 20 years ago on Sunday that my nephew Brent, just 8 years old, left this earth as the result of a brain aneurysim.
I remember how excited everyone was when he was born, and how devasted we were when he passed.
I remember my Dad finally letting the floodgates open, and his sorrow openly show. I can remember holding Jeanie - who was a tiny baby - with one arm and tightly hugging my nieces with the other.
Today we discussed how God can allow children to suffer with a friend of ours. She's struggled with this question as well, because of events in her own family. She shared the answer her pastor had given her: essentially (and I am paraphrasing) there is no answer. Things like this make no sense. Hopefully at some point, God can help us put the experience into service, but there really is no good answer as to why tragically random things happen, especially when they happen to little children.
(You might have a different answer, and if it gives you comfort then that's fine by me.)
My brother and sister-in-law helped honour Brent's life by agreeing to organ donation, one way of putting the experience into service. I know it has not been easy for their family to carry on, and I love the fact that they have kept Brent's memory alive.
Brenty, we love you and remember you.
I have good reason to believe that you've been one of Thomas' guardian angels. God bless you, sweetie.
Love,
Brent's Auntie
