On the Death of my Brother-in-law

One Monday, as I was serving dinner to my children, my husband called me and it stopped me in my tracks. His brother had been in an awful accident on his way home from work. He was flown from the scene of the crash to the nearest trauma center. We didn't know much, being a whole state away and waiting for local family to arrive at the hospital. Immediately, I called my parents and asked them to pray. I texted my sister-in-law, his wife, letting her know we were praying for them all. So many other calls went out, trying to relay information as it was coming in. I called my mother-in-law and before I could speak, I knew I had to go to her. I told her I was coming as soon as I could manage. My parents came to watch the boys and I was on my way. (Thankfully my husband, who only works 10 minutes from his parent's house, had already left work to be with his mom. His dad had also arrived before I got there.) It was a time of waiting and praying and crying and asking questions that had no answer. We knew he was in surgery and that gave us hope, it meant he was alive! Once doctors came to talk with the family in the waiting room, we were updated and it was grim. Due to the circumstances of the crash, he had experienced internal trauma that was able to be stabilized in the surgery. His brain had fared much worse, suffering trauma that the doctors described as "unsurvivable." After this information began to sink in, plans were made. My husband stayed with his parents that night, we both felt it best, and I came home to be with the boys. 

In the morning, my husband cautiously drove his parents to the airport, then went to his sister's house. I tried to be as normal as possible because we had not told the boys. I cried my way through the boys' homeschool lessons. My husband came home and it was decided that we needed to get there as fast as possible. We told the boys that their uncle had been hurt really badly, and was in the hospital, and that we had to go see him. My parents came to stay with the older 3 boys and we took the baby with us. My husband's sister and brother-in-law, and their toddler, were driving down there that afternoon, to arrive in the evening. My husband and I decided to drive down and get a hotel partway to finish the drive on Wednesday. His managers got together and offered to fly us down, they knew how nervous he was about driving that distance and how important it was to arrive quickly. We were so grateful for their offer, but the logistics did not make sense for us. I exclusively pump to feed the baby and I was nervous about going through security with breastmilk in bottles. We would need a car seat for the baby, and figuring that out too, seemed overwhelming. As my husband and I continued to pack for our drive, they called us back and offered to fly us there on the owner's private jet. We were speechless and I was on the floor, overwhelmed at their generosity toward us. It was a surreal experience. We drove to the small airport, up to a gate that opened for us and out onto the tarmac, right up to the plane. Our stuff was moved from the truck to the plane and we boarded. Within minutes we were in the air. The flight took an hour and once we landed they provided us with a rental car and we were at the hospital and in his room in 30 minutes. I will never forget the Lord's kindness in getting us there quickly.

He looked so normal, in a way, like he was sleeping peacefully. At the same time, he didn't look like himself at all. We were able to be in the room with him as much as we wanted, the ICU nurses were so kind to us. So many family members and friends were at the hospital and passed around the baby so I could be with my husband. I think the baby brought people some joy during this tragedy. That night, doctors evaluated my brother-in-law's neurologic function and officially declared him brain dead. All this while we were still waiting for his sister, brother-in-law, and niece to arrive. They made it to the hospital late, after 10pm. The church had provided an AirBNB so the family could stay together close to the hospital. We all slept fitfully, and once the day began, Wednesday was a whirlwind. We all rushed to the hospital at the urging of family who had stayed there overnight, apparently, doctors wanted to remove the ventilator that morning and if we wanted to say "goodbye" we would need to arrive soon.

There was some drama regarding removing him from life support and his status as an organ donor. Eventually, it was resolved in our favor. My husband read scripture and a prayer from "Every Moment Holy" that perfectly gave words to our situation. I had the gut-wrenching realization as a mom, that this would be the last time my mother-in-law had all of her children in the same room on this earth. That thought haunted me and is one I still struggle with today. Once the ventilator was removed, he was gone in minutes. I thought back to Monday when I was serving dinner to my boys, life was so normal, and now 48 hours later we were staring at my brother-in-law's lifeless body. I didn't want it to be real, I still don't. 

I hate the thought, knowing that we will not talk to him again, that he will not be there for his wife and son, and that because of someone's selfish impatience, he died. A truck driver with a flatbed trailer attached, attempted to make an illegal U-turn in an emergency turn around area on the highway. My brother-in-law had no time to react before the collision. It took rescue crew 48 minutes to remove him from the vehicle. The highway was shut down for hours in both directions as the highway patrol conducted an investigation. The driver was arrested and after less than 24 hours in jail, was released on bond (of some sort). We are expecting the charges against this man to be upgraded now that my brother-in-law died.

The remainder of the week was a blur, seeing family and wading through grief. The owner of my husband's company flew us (and my father-in-law and his brother) back home on Saturday. We told our boys that night. There were few questions at first, I think they had to process it in their own ways. My second born would process out loud, almost reminding himself, "Uncle did die," and later "Uncle is not breathing anymore." After these pronouncements he would get quiet and teary-eyed. I expected more of a reaction from my firstborn but he is more thoughtful of things, only later asking questions after he has had time to think. My third born is only 2, so he had no concept of death. He knew we were talking about his uncle, but didn't understand the loss. Later that night, as they lay down in bed, they asked questions of my husband. "Why did uncle die young? Don't most people die when they're old?" "Why did God make people if he knew they would sin?" and "When do we get our heavenly bodies?" My husband does so well with them and their questions. I don't remember asking those kinds of questions as a child.

It was so good to be with our church family the next day. After a week of darkness, they brought us light, comfort, and hope. Their prayers upheld us as we planned to travel back for the funeral. There was so much that was left in the air it seemed, figuring out when and how we were to travel down and back, where our family of 6 would stay while we were there, what my husband would say at the funeral. Monday, my husband went back to work, though I did not want him to, I think he needed something to distract him and give him some sense of normalcy. It was also hard for him. He went in Tuesday and experienced more of the same. I was also in turmoil at home. I finally communicated with him, that though I could not give reason or explanation, I needed him at home. It's not that there was any one particular thing causing me to feel that, it was just that I needed him. Once I told him, there seemed to be something that switched in his brain. He was a man with a purpose. All the things I needed of him, he did without my even asking.

Wednesday we traveled partway and stayed in a hotel. My husband (and I) were nervous for the drive, understandably. Generously, his company provided us with a rental car, yet again. We were surprised to discover that this car came equipped with hands-free driving. It definitely put us both at ease. Thursday we made the remaining drive and were met with generosity once again, in the form of a hotel room paid for by family friends. We spent time with family as we were in town awaiting the funeral on Saturday. My husband's grandma was able to meet her newest great-grandson (our baby), and once again see our third born whom she had only met when he was 4-6 weeks old. The boys met many cousins on my husband's side of the family. We took a trip to the local aquarium and had such a sweet time with the boys. It was hard to have a good time though because we knew the only reason we were there is because of death.

The night before the funeral, I sat with my husband and read over what he planned to say the next day. Together we edited and clarified what he wrote. Once completed, he printed it at the hotel desk and felt much more settled about it all. The day of the funeral was difficult to say the least. We initially had all the boys seated with us. My husband sat on the front row because he had to get up to speak, meanwhile I sat on the second row directly behind him. He had our second born with him on the front row and I had the other three with me. The baby being just about 10 months old, was loud and not able to be quieted. During another speaker's speech, I took him to the childcare room and dropped him off with his cousins and some other children. I returned and continued to sit with the first and third born. When my husband, and my father-in-law both got up to speak, that left my mother-in-law alone, so I sent my firstborn to sit with her. I had told him to give her a hug too but I don't think he heard me. I saw her squeeze his knee and I knew she was glad for his presence. The funeral itself was very different for me, having been to many funerals before, but only for those who were going to be buried and not cremated. There was no funeral director there, which was different for me. After my sisters-in-law spoke of their brother, and the singing was over, it was my husband's turn to speak. He shared some stories but most importantly he shared the truth of the Gospel straight from the scriptures. He did it unashamedly, and appropriately, it was beautiful. My father-in-law spoke next followed by the pastor. I honestly do not remember much of what he said. Afterwards was a bit chaotic to me, but at the same time I understand why the receiving room was done the way it was rather than an organized line. The evening after the funeral, we got together with my mother-in-law's side of the family, whom we hadn't seen for years. Her father had not met our youngest two boys. 

Sunday was our last day there, we found a church that was connected to the same ministry as our church back home. We accidentally arrived late! The time on the website was different than the time listed on their sign, plus we were running late already. We arrived as they were finishing their songs, right before the pastoral prayer. The church was tiny, both in space and in congregation. The preaching was not fancy or particularly eloquent on the surface, but the pastor was faithfully expositing the scripture and for that we were thankful. Once the service was over, we were met by strangers who felt like friends, and by the time we left, like family. The tiny congregation felt like a home away from home, an oasis in a dry desert. That evening, we got together with my sister-in-law and nephew. It was a relaxed time. Our boys were playing, her boy was glued to my husband. He would take his uncle by the hand and walk around the house showing him what he wanted him to see. He brought toys to him and asked him to fix them. He's not quite 2 years old, and doesn't understand the loss, but he's feeling it. He craved attention from my husband, he misses his father, whether he can identify the loss or not. It was hard to leave them and come back to our lives hundreds of miles away.

Monday morning we returned and tried our best to continue with some normalcy. I cooked dinner for the first time on Wednesday, the first time I'd really cooked since that day when I served dinner to the kids and received that fateful call. In the time since, there have been moments of hard, and moments of laughter, moments where we don't feel like doing anything. We have shared memories and pictures. Apparently I misremembered that my brother-in-law hadn't met my youngest son, and wonderfully, we were wrong and found a picture of one of their trips to see us. There was a picture of all of the cousins together, including my youngest. I know he was there because my nephew was there too. 

We have spent time informally investigating the crash, not that it changes anything but it does bring some level of understanding and comfort in knowing what happened with the car, and with his body. There is a criminal investigation occurring with the Highway patrol and we will receive updates from that. What the man did was illegal and he admitted to it. We seek earthly justice, knowing that justice belongs to God. 

Continuing to live in the midst of loss, in the midst of our grief is something we will be learning for the rest of our lives. Our lives will not be the same due to the loss of my brother-in-law. It will affect us each in varying degrees, because we each had our own relationship with him. There is so much to be said about his life and his death, and about our feelings in toward him. Regarding the loss of my brother-in-law, we are bereaved of him but eagerly hoping to see him when we go to be with the Lord, or when Christ comes to earth to raise the dead back to life eternal.