It has been almost two years since my brother died and I wrote about him in a column….Remembering a Brother Lost. Many people commented that reading that column caused them to reach out to long lost relatives and friends and tell them that they cared. I feel lucky to have made a difference and I hope these renewed relationships have continued to grow.
I only wish I had it to do all over again. I would have called him more and tried to build a better relationship. Now he’s gone and my parents and I just picked out his headstone. We will place it on his grave in Tofte Memorial Weekend.
They say grief doesn’t hit you all at once, it tends to come in waves. I personally couldn’t agree more. Sometimes I will be driving along and just daydreaming… then I remember some silly childhood memory and I am in tears. Because my brother and I were only 10 months apart I really don’t have any memories without him. Fishing in Dyers Lake, swimming at Temperance, long daily bus rides to school, working together at the ski hill and Satellite’s Country Inn…. until graduation we saw each other every day. But school, marriages, children and jobs took us in separate directions…we lost touch and then he was gone.
I honestly don’t know how we lost contact the last several months of his life….I think he was trying hard to make it on his own and we both just ran out of time. I have deep regrets that I didn’t try harder to see him before it was too late. No one expects a man to die at the age of 48. We should have taken better care of each other and our relationship.
It reminds me of the story of the man who asked the Lord to show him the difference between heaven and hell. The man was shown two doors. He opened one of the doors and looked in. In the middle of the room was a large round table. In the middle of the table was a large pot of stew, which smelled delicious and made the man’s mouth water. The people sitting around the table were thin and sickly. They were holding spoons with very long handles that were strapped to their arms and each found it possible to reach into the pot of stew and take a spoonful. But because the handle was longer than their arms, they could not get the spoons back into their mouths. They appeared to be starving. The Lord said, “You have seen Hell.”
They went to the next room and opened the door. It was exactly the same as the first one. There was the large round table with the large pot of stew which made the man’s mouth water. The people were equipped with the same long-handled spoons, but here the people were well nourished and plump, laughing and talking. Enjoying fellowship and good company. The man said, “I don’t understand. The rooms are the same, why are these people not starving?”
“It is simple,” said the Lord. “This is Heaven and here they have learned to feed each other.”
There comes a time in everyone’s life when they need to know it is up to them to feed and help someone else. It is also important that if you need help you must reach out and ask to “be fed.” Don’t think you have to go it alone. There is too much suffering in the world as it is….We must feed each other.
Taste of Home columnist Sandy (Anderson) Holthaus lives on a farm in South Haven, MN with her husband, Michael, and their children Zoe, Jack and Ben. Her heart remains on the North Shore where she grew up with her parents, Art and LaVonne Anderson of Schroeder. She enjoys writing about her childhood and mixes memories with delicious helpings of home-style recipes.
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