It was dark when I got into my vehicle headed towards home the other night.
I hit what I thought was Hero Hubby’s number…
to inform him that I was on my way.
When I looked up to where my cell phone rests while driving…
in a holder attached to the windshield…
I realized I had dialed my brother, Tim instead.
There he was, smiling at me from the darkness…
in this exact photograph.
I like to think he really does.
I recently took a trip home to Washington state…
to visit friends and do some business.
It was my first time back alone.
As I sat on a bench in Sea-Tac airport…
during a layover…
I had a lot of time to think.
“As Americans, we haven’t learned…
to say ‘no’ to distractions”…
says Dr. Shanon Brooks.
He isn’t wrong.
For me, being in Washington this past year…
didn’t involve a “yes” or “no” response to them.
They were present in the form of tasks…
things to cross of lists…
people to interact with.
Except this last time.
Tears flowed freely…
along with thoughts…
and approximately 3 tons of grief…
sitting on my chest like an elephant.
The ponderings swirled in and out…
of a mind that was filled…
with memories and emotions…
on life without Tim.
Upon taking off…
I took the time to pen some of them.
I love the Pacific Northwest.
While many speak of light deprivation…
and feeling waterlogged…
I drown out such statements…
with childhood memories of growing up…
as the older sister of a young boy destined for greatness.
Now, seemingly mundane tasks or daily events…
are highlights and gifts within a mind…
desiring to keep memories alive.
In recent years…
Tim was always asking me to “come home.”
Busyness on both of our parts…
my large family…
his commitments to teaching and coaching…
always crowded out any reason…
to act on that request.
He always ended coming here in the end.
How ironic, that he would be the reason…
I have been home 3 times since September.
There are people who ask consistently…
how we are doing.
Still others…
desperately wish this was over.
I want to say…
that neither position is a bad one.
I wished it was over, too.
What it is, rather…
is a new beginning.
And the terrain and geography…
aren’t familiar, comfortable, or easy.
There are still many jewels in all of this.
Tim, the consummate educator and mentor…
hasn’t lost his touch where I am concerned.
Sea-Tac airport has stepped things up a notch…
since I was a kid!
In fact, much of Washington has!
Starbucks, Nintendo, Microsoft, Costco…
and other fine establishments…
envied elsewhere in the nation…
are but a few of the start-ups since my childhood.
There is a beautiful atrium/food court/storefront area…
in one section of the airport that wasn’t there back then either.
It now sports one of my favorite stores…
chock full of artsy, creative flair…
in the form of a myriad of products.
Tim would go to their original storefront with me…
laugh and roll his eyes…
and then proceed to buy me their gift certificates…
on holidays and birthdays!
I simply love it.
Sitting on that bench with a tear streaked face…
I realized yet again…
that life always presents us choices.
When I focus on my personal loss…
it can honestly not only overwhelm…
but begin an emotional downward spiral…
leading to utter despair.
Focusing on life…
and one that produced an incredible legacy…
and the eternal life upon which I place my hope…
always leaves me smiling…
even through those tears.
Tim’s legacy is stellar.
His leadership produced an impact
much like the stars…
seen here in Fireworks’ window.
Each one representing an individual…
touched by his influence…
which continues to produce impact…
within those who were in his sphere.
That’s real love.
It takes a lifetime to craft, build and accomplish.
It comes from individuals who say to the world…
“Here I am!”…
and leave it, having created change.
For the better.
For the greater good.
This much I know…
beyond all doubt.
Tim was that person.
And I will see him again…
in an eternal home…
where there are no tears…
and only all that is unfathomably good.
Yes, dear readers I have eternal hope…
and the tremendous gift of legacy…
even though, for now…
no one was physically present…
at the other end of the phone.
Wow! What a beautiful post Teri. Thank you for sharing your brother and your grief with us.
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I love you Teri. Thank you for sharing. Praying for you, my friend.
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Teri, You are one of those shining stars in my life – like a cyber BFF, you encourage, enlighten, and make me laugh. That brother of yours! Such a wonderful soul. Hugs, Sonia
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Thanks for sharing, Aunt Teri. I drove by the Pump House a couple weeks ago, which is where Uncle Tim and I met for dinner a couple months before he passed, and I started crying in my car. It’s funny how emotions can spring up on you when you least expect it, but it was a good cry and brought me back to fun memories of Uncle Tim that made me smile. I miss him tons and wish we had spent more time together, but I’m very thankful for our last few conversations.
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