A journal entry after Brandon died:

In March, my younger brother passed away from the flu. His passing has caused all of my children to deal with new emotions they haven’t experienced before. My oldest is learning to stay the course by putting one foot in front of the other. My youngest—the boy who at one point in time dealt with fears on a daily basis—is strong in his resolve that families are forever. My middle child has found herself working through fear like she has never experienced before. Fear of death. Fear of the unknown. Fear of failure. All types of fear have seemed to shine an ugly head in our general direction.

Several nights after the funeral I found my daughter crying uncontrollably in her bed. I sat on the edge of her bed, and I listened to these fears. Some nights Amber would bravely go to bed; however, other nights found her consumed by the unknown. When Bryan and I would leave the home, Amber would text us, call us, and check on us frequently. The fear Amber was experiencing was tangible. 

One particularly hard night, Amber finally told me the cause of her fear. Amber was with me the night I found out my brother had passed away. I had just picked her up from gymnastics and I was on my way to pick up my other daughter at mutual. Brandon’s passing was unexpected, so when I got a phone call with the news of his passing, the only word I could say was “no”. I cried this word over and over again as my mind tried to find another solution to the story I was hearing. As Amber and I sat on her bed she confessed to me that she couldn’t seem to shake that moment from her thoughts. She said that seeing me in such a “broken” state caused her great fear. As I listened, I cried a bit in my own heart and I then I prayed for direction. We talked about what I did after that moment of brokenness, how I prayed for help, for faith. We talked about how to overcome our fears through the scriptures and prayers. We picked a theme scripture, and a theme song. We faced her fears head on.  

Day by day we started making progress. I have often told Amber that this process is a process of a lifetime. It is something we have to do on a daily basis. It doesn’t stop just because she finally overcomes a trial in her life. Choosing faith happens to all those who seek eternal life. 

Anniversary

Happy 16th Anniversary

 16        Reasons I am Grateful You were “Willing” to get Married:

I am grateful that our love continues to grow.

I am grateful that you have a testimony of Jesus Christ, you honor your priesthood, and you lead our family in righteousness.

I am grateful that you genuinely care for me and my feelings.

I am grateful that you help me with the laundry.

I am grateful that you teach me about being a better disciple of Christ while we study scriptures together.

I am grateful that you keep me laughing—even if it means that we are laughing at the long running list you have in your phone of the funny things I say and do. Along with that list, you are always able to lighten any mood, and allow us all to see the brighter, lighter things to life.

I am grateful that you coach our daughter’s soccer team.

I am grateful that you love going to the temple.

I am grateful that when I feel something is important, you do your best to understand why something is so important to me—you truly hear me and listen to me.

I am grateful that you’re my best friend and that if I could choose anyone to spend time with—I’d choose you.

I am grateful that you can give me a priesthood blessing when I am struggling or sick.

I am grateful that you allow me to be quirky, and instead of being bugged, you help me in my quirkiness. For example, when it’s time to leave town, instead of being frustrated that I have to finish the laundry, vacuum the floor, or whatever it is—you hurry and help me accomplish what I feel I need to accomplish without me feeling bad that I really want to do those things.

I am grateful that you don’t get upset with me when I lose money, which I seem to do a lot…

I am grateful that when I am hurting and upset, you listen to me, and you love me. You don’t try to change my feelings, nor do you try to fix my problems. You allow me to mend in my way while staying by my side strengthening me. You have been a rock for me while I have struggled with Brandon’s passing. Thank you.

I am grateful that you believe in me, and that you are my biggest cheerleader!

I am grateful that you love our children with all your heart!

We were babies back then...

Of Sadness and Gratitude

I'm sad today. Nothing happened to make me more sad today than any other day--I'm just sad. While being racked with melancholy, I looked up Brandon's account on Facebook. I wanted to see his face. To see pictures of him smiling back at me--pictures that seem to be so recent. As I scrolled through his smiling face, I cried, I smiled, and I laughed. My heart hurt a little, but it felt glad as well.

It's okay to have moments of sadness. It's okay to take that time to heal. I wish every day could be a day full of laughter and happiness full of progress and of moving forward; however, sometimes I think sadness can be progress too. Sadness helps me remember how much I loved my little brother. Sadness reminds me of the moments we shared, and on the other side of sadness, I can see peace.

So, today I'll cry. I'll allow myself that moment. I'll keep moving forward, but I'll also allow the tears to roll. I'll celebrate Brandon in my heart, and I'll rejoice in the life he lived. I'll keep sacred my understanding of forever families, and I will rejoice that it will come to pass.

I am grateful for my Heavenly Father and His love that He has for each of us. I am grateful that I know He hears me. I am grateful that I know He is aware of my struggle. I am grateful for the love He sends my way. I am grateful for the knowledge I have of families, and of the plan of salvation. I am grateful for my Savior, for His atoning sacrifice, and for His love for me. I am grateful for the opportunities I have to grow and to become better. I am grateful....ever so grateful. I love my God. I love Him with all my heart. My heart sings and rejoices in Him, and I am so grateful.

Memories

Writing a talk for Brandon’s funeral left me emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed. I worked all day on articulating my thoughts, all the while praying to remember more memories from my childhood. Towards the end of the day, we all gathered around Layne as he shared his talk, and then I shared mine. We were all touched by the words written, and we were grateful to have shared them prior to the funeral so as to help control our emotions for the actual day. As I concluded my remarks, I felt an overwhelming sense of sadness as I still hadn't remembered all that I had hoped to remember. I remember communicating to my family the frustration I felt, and the desire I had to simply run down memory lane. As I cried, Layne brought me the greatest peace I had felt since Brandon’s passing. He said, “Brandon was to you what Eric was to me. This is going to be hardest on you. All those memories will come back. Just give it some time.”

Layne and Eric were inseparable as kids. They were best friends. Brandon and I were also inseparable. We too—were best friends.

I have replayed those words a thousand times over again in my mind, and each time they bring me peace. Sometimes we want all the answers. It’s so hard to be patient as things do not work out exactly how we want them when we want them. I think the key is to trust in a greater power--believe in God, and all things will work together. Not necessarily in our own time frame, but in God's time frame.

Walking in the Shoes of Others

Compassion Cometh Through Struggles...

It was the day after the funeral, and my mom and I had a few errands to run. I sat writing thank you cards while she got a haircut--my goal was to write ALL of her thank you cards prior to leaving to Boise. After a few hours of running around, we stopped for lunch at a local Mexican Restaurant. After we had finished eating, I sat waiting in the lobby while my mom excused herself to the restroom. As I sat alone by the exit, I was hit with a rush of emotion. I held my head high and tried to control the tears that wanted to roll down my cheeks. I chided myself for crying around so many strangers. I watched as person after person passed through the exit while I waited for my mom. All of a sudden a new understanding opened to my mind. Each and every person exiting the restaurant had a story. Some of them could be experiencing great joy, while others could be experiencing great sadness. It really didn't matter who was passing me, I simply knew that each of them had "something" in their life that was either happy or sad. The knowledge that each of us pass through moments of joy and moments of sadness created a new understanding in my mind. As I sat trying to control my tears, I realized that no one in that restaurant knew that my little brother had just died. No one knew that I had spoken at his funeral just the day before. No one knew that he was my best friend, and that I was missing him like crazy. No one knew the heartbreak I was feeling as I sat alone in the restaurant. And as my mind thought on this realization, my heart opened to my fellow brethren, to all those that passed me on their way out the restaurant and all those who would ever pass me by, to everyone--my heart opened to all people everywhere, and I desired to see people more clearly, to love more deeply, to see with spiritual eyes all those who crossed my path or would ever cross my path. I may not know the struggles that are hidden from my view, but I can choose to love. I can choose to be more aware. Even if I can only offer a smile--I can do that. I prayed at that moment to be more genuinely kind to everyone everywhere for I knew that I could never walk in their shoes, but I could love them as if I had.

I was once again a little girl.

The Love of My Parents

When I was a little girl, I used to climb into bed with my parents all of the time. I liked having my parents to myself before the busyness of the day began. I felt loved and connected to them as we talked about big things and small things. I remember feeling comforted as a child and then as a youth as we talked about my life and what was important to me. My dad would always tease me as I tried to crawl in, and act as if I was interrupting his sleep, but I knew it was all just an act. I knew he liked my visits as much as I liked visiting.

After Brandon passed away, I had trouble sleeping--especially while I was staying in Idaho Falls away from my husband. One particular night, I felt I had been awake all night. I found myself waking up almost every two hours with tears rolling down my cheeks. All of my dreams were centered on my loss of my little brother, and it was difficult for me to sleep. After having such a terrible night's rest, I longed for my husband to comfort me; however, he was still in Boise taking care of our three kids. As I lay in bed, and as I longed for comfort, I suddenly remembered where I had found comfort as a little girl. I remember sneaking down the hallway to my parent's room and slowly crawling into bed with them. I felt like I was 7 again as I snuggled into the covers.

I laughed as my dad rolled over and asked, "What are you doing crawling into my bed?"

I did my best at sounding absolutely innocent as I responded, "I am cold. And I am sad. And I wanted some company."

My mom chimed in at that moment, and said, "Well, Keith, move over and make some room for her."

We talked for quite some time about our struggle and our understanding of the Plan of Salvation. Each of us bore testimony of the afterlife, and of families being forever. I felt more peace that morning than I had since learning of Brandon's death. I needed the reassurance that sometimes only parents can offer. I was grateful that my parents loved me enough to scoot over and make some room for their struggling daughter. I was also grateful for a Father in Heaven who reminded me to seek my earthly parents for comfort. I truly believe He was answering my prayers of comfort by sending me to my parents room that night.

As I reflect on this moment, I feel encompassed about by the love of my earthly parents and by the love of my Heavenly parent. I am truly grateful for the healing that took place that morning as I was able to talk about my thoughts and my struggles. It was painful as we relived the moments of Brandon's passing, and as I asked questions concerning spiritual promises that had not yet been fulfilled, but it was healing. Healing for me and I think healing for my parents too.

The Next Day...

Love is the Purpose of Life

The following morning after Brandon passed away, I drove to Idaho Falls to help prepare for the funeral. My siblings and I sat at the funeral home discussing the speakers, the music, the flowers, and all the little details that go along with planning a funeral. I felt somewhat disconnected as we discussed Brandon and the person he had become. My mind kept trying to grasp at memories that I had had with him; however, my mind was in too much shock to even be able to grasp a simple memory. I felt panicked as I voiced my sadness, and my sister, Michelle, voiced the same opinion. All of us had amazing memories and moments with Brandon, but the shock of losing him was causing our brains to function at a minimal level.

The feeling of sadness was tangible as we entered the room filled with caskets to pick out Brandon's final resting spot. In an effort to relieve the tension, my sister climbed into a casket proclaiming that it wasn't really comfortable. My siblings and I laughed and the tension relaxed a bit. The funeral director had stepped away for a bit, and when he returned, he said it wasn't the first time someone had tried out the accommodations. I was grateful for the distraction. It reminded me of the morning we found Eric's body in the Snake River. My brother-in-law, Dave, had gone into the church to allow the ward to know that we had found him (our Stake had been fasting for our family to find Eric). On his way back to the pickup, he tripped over the fence. Somehow as I write what happened, it doesn't seem funny, but for us, at that moment--it was funny. The laughter lightened our hearts and delivered a portion of peace. I felt similar as my sister crawled out of the casket and for a moment the mood was lighter. However, our thoughts quickly returned to the task at hand. In the end, my mother picked her favorite casket, and we all agreed. After all, it was her son we were burying--mother's should get to choose those things.

As we continued through the tasks at the funeral home, my mind continually returned to the same tasks 20 years previously. When Eric died, we weren't allowed to see his body, because it had been in the water for so long. The funeral director was concerned that it would leave us with a bad memory; however, he offered us an opportunity to view him through a veil. I remember it being most important for Roxanne and I that we have this opportunity. For me, I needed it for closure--or at least, I felt that I did. I remember standing beside Eric's body and touching his hand. It felt so empty as I knew that he was no longer in his mortal body. Seeing the outline of his body made everything more real--more painful. It was as if my heart could feel the finality of what my brain already knew. 

As my mind reflected on this memory, I felt I needed to see Brandon as I had seen Eric. Most of my siblings had already seen Brandon--they had been there the night of his death; however, Rox and I lived away from Idaho Falls, so we hadn't yet seen him. It still felt like somewhat of a dream for me, and I think my heart needed to face the reality of the situation. I didn't want to leave the funeral home without seeing Brandon. I'm not sure why--I just wanted to see him.

The funeral director was kind enough to wheel Brandon out for us to see. And once again the finality of his death was communicated to my heart. I cried as I stood by his side. I couldn't touch him. My stomach felt sick. My dad came over and ruffled his hair. My siblings all stood around me. We all took a moment to cry.

I remember walking away to cry. I heard my niece bearing testimony of the Resurrection, and I was grateful to share in that knowledge, and to believe it with all of my heart. I knew that it was the reason we would find peace, and the reason our hearts would heal--it's how we got through Eric's death, and I knew it would carry us again. I remember listening to my niece and her beautiful testimony, and then looking around at my siblings. There was only 4 of us left.

I think we all had this realization and our minds were grasping at life lessons. All of us felt as if we had already learned this lesson when Eric died; however, with Brandon's passing, we felt it anew. The lesson: the most important thing we can accomplish in this life is to love the people in our lives. I think it is easy to get too busy with the everyday tasks of life, and in the process of being busy--we miss the point of our existence. Brandon epitomized this lesson in his everyday life. For the most part, Brandon didn't say mean things to me or to anyone else--even when there were moments when a mean comment would be warranted. On occasion he would get frustrated, but rather than say something unkind Brandon would leave entirely. I remember just a few weeks prior to his passing, he was staying at my home, and we were having a deep discussion on life, and the importance of refusing Satan in our lives. Brandon could have been mad at me as I took on a motherly role towards him, but he didn't get mad. Instead, Brandon showed great humility as he listened and accepted my counsel.  

If there is one lesson I am learning from the deaths of my two brothers, it is to show more love. There has to be room in our hearts to reach out to the people around us. There has to be time in our day to send a message of love. There has to be a conscientious action to show more love. We are taught in the scriptures that charity is the pure love of Christ (Moroni 7:47)... and "whosoever is possessed of it at the last day, it will be well with him" (Moroni 7:47).  We are also taught in the scriptures from the Savior how we can best show love when he asked Peter if he loved him. He asked Peter multiple times to which Peter always responded in the affirmative. Finally, the Savior taught the key to love when he said, "Feed My Sheep" (John 2:14-17).

Marvin J. Ashton said, "When were you last fed by a family member or friend? When were you last given nourishment for growth and ideas, plans, sorting of the day, sharing of fun, recreation, sorrow, anxiety, concern, and meditation? These ingredients can only be shared by someone who loves and cares. Have you ever gone to extend sympathy and comfort in moments of death and trial, only to come away fed by the faith and trust of the loving bereaved? Certainly the best way for us to show our love in keeping and feeding is by taking the time to prove it hour by hour and day by day. Our expressions of love and comfort are empty if our actions don’t match. God loves us to continue. Our neighbors and families love us if we will but follow through with sustaining support and self-sharing. True love is as eternal as life itself. Who is to say the joys of eternity are not wrapped up in continuous feeding, keeping, and caring? We need not weary in well-doing when we understand God’s purposes and his children" (Marvin J. Ahston,  "Love Takes Time, October 1975 General Conference).

I have felt this love as I have struggled with my brother's passing. There have been those who have reached out to me, who have taken the time to show that they care. It was more than in word, but in action. As they have done this, my understanding of love has deepened, and I have desired to be more like them—not only to my family, but to my friends as well.

Marvin J. Ashton further explained this principle when he said, “The world is filled with too many of us who are inclined to indicate our love with an announcement or declaration. True love is a process. True love requires personal action. Love must be continuing to be real. Love takes time” (Marvin J. Ahston,  "Love Takes Time, October 1975 General Conference).

It is easy to forget to reach out, it is easy to become too busy with the busyness of life; however, in the end, when I am standing before my Savior, and He asks me if I loved him, I hope I can answer with an affirmative, because I had fed His sheep.

My fight song...

Last night when Amber found herself scared and unable to sleep, we talked for a long time about gospel principles and focusing on faith. I tried desperately to give her tools to help her focus her mind on the good and happy things of life. I told her to sing primary songs, to quickly refocus her mind when she found herself sad, and I told her that she could always use us (her parents) as a resource.

Our conversation went something like this:

"Mom, I just can't get it out of my head. I keep thinking back to the moment when you were so sad. When you kept saying "no". When you found out Brandon died. I keep thinking of that moment, and I am so sad."

"Amber, you are right that I was sad. I want you to know that it's okay to be sad when bad things happen, but I want you to think really hard back to that moment, and I want you to remember what I did after I had a moment of tears. What did I do?"

"You started to pray."

"You're right. I did start to pray. I knew that I couldn't make it through a trial of this magnitude without my Heavenly Father. Rather than focus on my sadness--could you focus on where I turned?"

It is moments like these where I struggle with my reactions, and I question how I handled my brother's death. I wish I had prayed right from the start. Sure, I started praying, but I had a moment of tears first. And it's not that I think that having a moment of tears is wrong, but my mind keeps going to the ideal--what I could have done to make this whole process better for my sweet little Amber. Maybe if I had immediately prayed, she would think of that moment rather than my sadness--I'm not sure. But, the one thing that I know without a doubt is that God is there--He hears us, and He is ready to help heal all wounds. Just like I keep trying to teach Amber to move forward with faith, I have to do the same. We both have to keep our focus on our Father in Heaven and allow Him to lift us.

The night that Brandon died I kept thinking of a song by Janice Kapp Perry called "The Test". All I wanted to do when I got home was to listen to that song over and over again. I wanted to hear the words, and embed them into my heart. I wanted to hear:

 "Didn't He say He sent us to be tested? Didn't He say the way would not be sure? But didn't He say we could live with Him forever more...if we but patiently endured? After the trial, we will be blessed. But this life is the test."

I wanted more than anything for the results of the evening to be different; however, I knew what I needed to do. I knew right then and there that I needed to have faith, and I wanted to hear a song that testified of that, so I listened over and over and over as the tears ran down my cheeks. I held my breath each time the song talked of death...

"Tell me friend, why must you die? Why must your loved ones stand with empty hearts and ask the question why? Help me know, so I can go on. How when your love and faith sustain me can the precious gift be gone? From the depth of sorrow I cry...the whisperings of the spirit still my cry. Didn't He say He sent us to be tested..."

I knew that my role was not to ask the question, "Why?" I had to have faith. I needed to choose faith.

Last night as I held Amber, she asked me about the song I had listened to when I found strength. I talked a little about the meaning behind the song, but the spirit told me that it wasn't her song for strength. As I conveyed the meaning of the song to me, and my testimony that we can endure, Bryan played another song in the background (a not so spiritual song, but a song with meaning too):

Like a small boat

On the ocean

Sending big waves

Into motion

Like how a single word

Can make a heart open

I might only have one match

But I can make an explosion

And all those things I didn't say

Wrecking balls inside my brain

I will scream them loud tonight

Can you hear my voice this time

As the song came to the chorus, I could almost see Amber smile and start pumping her fist to the beat (she didn't, but we both felt it).

This is my fight song

Take back my life song

Prove I'm alright song

My power's turned on

(Starting right now) I'll be strong

I'll play my fight song

And I don't really care if nobody else believes

'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me

After the song finished, Amber asked if we could buy it, and if she could listen to it again? So we did. I told her again that we loved her, and I held her in my arms as we cried a bit more, and then we wiped away our tears, and we determined to hold our chins high as we sang, "This is my fight song..." I told her that Uncle Brandon wanted her "to fight". He wanted her to love life, and to smile. I told her that it could be her gift to him to fight because I knew without a doubt that he would want that for her... And then we were finally able to sleep.

A continued fight...

Last night was another night of fear before bed. We cried together for quite some time. We once again talked about facing our fears and trusting in God. Sometimes thoughts are so hard to dismiss. It takes great persistence, faith and prayer to move past some of the thoughts that seem to surface in our minds. This is the struggle--to continually push out the sad and bad thoughts, and trust in the good. Amber said that she struggled with getting the night of Brandon's death out of her mind. She said that it continually replays in her mind, and it is always of me crying the word "no". We talked about that night. We faced her fears. And then we talked about the good of that night too. We talked about the praying and the seeking God. We talked about the blessing she received and what it said, and then we listened to the blessing.

I didn't realize that it would be a tender mercy to have the blessing recorded, but as we re-listened to God's words to her, Amber felt fortified and determined to allow God to help her. The blessing was directly related to her struggle right now. When the blessing was first offered Bryan had no idea of what kind of struggle Amber would face, which is a testimony to me that God is aware of us. He sees our struggles, and He sends messages to us to strengthen us in times of need. This blessing was a message from God to Amber, and I believe it will be the source of her strength to overcome. I am so grateful for the power of the priesthood, for the love of God, and for trials. It is through these trials that we have the opportunity to become. The process of becoming is so difficult, but I have no doubt that it will someday be glorious.

Hailey was reading the New Era this morning, and read this quote to me:
Heavenly Father placed you in the best place to use your spiritual gifts and build your talents. No matter where you live or what life circumstances you find yourself in, you can make the choice to succeed, regardless of your challenges. Don't ever give up. Keep going. Don't quit. Remember, its what you do with what you have that makes you who you are. ("New Era, "Where Am I", December 2014).
This is a lesson that we are learning so intensely right now. Last night as I talked with Amber, I felt as if I was begging her to keep going. I felt as if I was pleading and using all the persuasion I had in me to convince her of God's goodness, of beautiful things to come, of peace and happiness. Amber is an amazing young woman. She will succeed, and I will be with her along the way!

Daily Reflections

Today I allowed Amber to read my journal entries surrounding Brandon's death. She read about my perspective when we were in the car together, and as she read, she cried. As I watched her the pain that was so apparent on her face, I wondered if I was again making a mistake in allowing her to see into my thoughts and feelings. However, when she was done, we both felt a sense of peace. She said it was difficult because it brought her back to the night of Brandon's death; however, she said it was also healing. This is just another step in our process of healing--in Amber's process of healing. It's just another step in my process of helping my sweet girl heal.

I am grateful for the inspiration that God so willingly sends. He hears our prayers. He knows what we need even before we pray. Because He is a loving Father, He desires to bless us. My allowing Amber to read my thoughts was an answer to my prayer; however, I didn't know it was an answer until the after I allowed Amber to read my journal. AS we trust in the promptings we receive, He will lead us by the hand.

What makes a hero? My tribute to Brandon.

My Little Brother is a Hero

“Though the storm clouds may gather, though the rains may pour down upon us, our knowledge of the gospel and our love of our Heavenly Father and of our Savior will comfort and sustain us and bring joy to our hearts as we walk uprightly and keep the commandments. …

“My beloved brothers and sisters, fear not. Be of good cheer. The future is as bright as your faith.”

~Thomas S. Monson

I love this quote. I love that it says, "Our future is as bright as our faith". I truly believe that  if we turn to our Heavenly Father and our Savior, we will be carried. He will sustain us. He will not leave us comfortless. For the past month I have seen His hand in my life as I have struggled with the passing of my younger brother. As I reach to Him, I know He is there. I know He is guiding me. And although I wish God's plan was somehow different for my family--I do not doubt it. I trust that all this is for a greater purpose.

President Spencer W. Kimball said that someday, “from the vantage point of the future, we shall be satisfied with many of the happenings of this life that are so difficult for us to comprehend," He added: “We knew before we were born that we were coming to the earth for bodies and experience and that … after a period of life we would die. We accepted all these eventualities with a glad heart, eager to accept both the favorable and unfavorable. We eagerly accepted the chance to come earthward even though it might be for only a day or a year” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Spencer W. Kimball (2006), 20).

These words are dear to my heart. We do not know how long our time will be on this earth, or how long our loved ones will remain. We accepted this eventuality when we came here--in fact, we rejoiced for the opportunity. My heart hurts for the loss of two of my brothers; however, I have faith that this is all a part of the plan. I truly believe that God has called them home.

I began writing about Brandon's passing two weeks ago--only writing a little each day. To celebrate Brandon's memory, his birthday (today), and his life, I post my thoughts for all to read:

It's been two weeks. It's crazy how time goes by and it feels slow and fast all at the same time. On one hand, I can't believe that it's already been two weeks; however, on another hand, every day seems so slow and monotonous. I think back to the night two weeks ago when I received the phone call. I sometimes wish I could go back to that moment when my heart wasn't broken; when I lived in bliss. It's funny--even then I had struggles, but this struggle has seemed to put all other struggles into perspective.

My memories of that night always begin with my dropping Amber off at gymnastics. I remember talking to my mom on the phone, and asking her about Brandon. She told me of Brandon having the flu, and of him staying with her for a few days. I remember asking her if he was okay, to which she affirmed that he was fine--just a little sick.

Later that evening, after I had picked Amber up from gym, and I was driving to pick Hailey up from mutual, I received a phone call from Dave.

"Can I speak to Bryan?" he asked.

"He's not here right now. Can I have him call you back?" I replied.

"No. Carrie, are you sitting down? I need to tell you something."

"Yes, I'm sitting down. Dave, what's wrong?"

"Carrie, I have to tell you that Brandon just passed away."

My mind reeled--I tried to make sense of what I had just heard, but my mind couldn't grasp the possibility of my little brother being gone. I had just talked to my mom--she had said he was okay. How could he have died? I tried denying what I was hearing. I cried while quietly saying over and over the word,  "no". I begged Dave to give me a different answer--some sort of hope, but there was nothing he could offer. He kept saying he was sorry, and asking me if I was okay. All the while I repeatedly cried "no".

Amber was sitting next to me, but I couldn't explain anything to her. She could see my emotion, and she cried too. She had no idea what was upsetting me, but she knew something serious had happened.

"Mom", she said-- "Mom, are you okay? What is wrong? What has happened? Please, mom...tell me what is wrong."

I couldn't answer. I could hear her pleading with me to tell her, but I couldn't bring myself to saying what I knew. Somehow I knew if I said what I was hearing, it would become a reality, and my heart wanted this whole conversation to be over--to be wrong--to be a bad dream.

I don't know how long I cried until I finally called Bryan. Even when I heard Bryan answer, it was difficult for me to say what I needed to say. I finally forced myself to communicate what was so upsetting to me. It was then that Amber heard, and my sadness became hers.

When Bryan arrived, he held me as I cried. I remember hearing Amber crying in the background, but for some reason I couldn't stop to offer her comfort. I kept thinking of being strong and pulling myself together for my children, but I couldn't pull my mind from my reality. While I cried, Jacob kept trying to communicate with me (Jacob had been with Bryan when I had called him). I finally turned to see what it was that Jacob needed. He said, "Mom, Brandon is not gone. He's not gone, Mom. He's not gone." I turned to my little boy all the while praying for a way to explain to him what had happened. My little Jacob has always been afraid of dying. We deal with fears related to death--ALL of the time. I don't necessarily feel that children need to know all the details of everything bad that happens, but I do believe that as his mommy, I needed to be honest with him. I kept trying to explain to him what I knew, but he kept saying, "No, mommy, you don't understand. He's not gone." I finally stopped, and affirmed what he was saying, "Jacob, we will see him again. He has died, but we will be with him again." My heart melted as Jacob said, "Mom, that is what I have been saying all along. We will see him again."

The faith of a child is a beautiful thing. For the past two weeks, Jacob has held to that faith. He hasn't waiver-ed. I truly believe that Jacob's understanding of the plan of salvation is carrying him through this difficult trial, and his example is a tender mercy to me. We are often told to "become like a little child". I think this is an example of what the scriptures mean when we are counseled to be childlike. The faith of a child is a perfect faith that believes in all that God promises.  Although I have seen moments where Jacob is sad for Brandon's passing, his faith still remains strong and sure--nothing wavering.

It is our faith that carries us through our tribulations. That night as I finally brought myself to drive home. I cried a prayer. I prayed to have the faith that I knew I needed to get through this trial. I prayed to be strong for my kids. I repeatedly asked for faith for my kids.  Even from the moment I heard of Brandon's passing, I had no doubt that I would see Brandon again. And although I have complete confidence in the Lord and the plan of salvation, the "missing" Brandon is still a painful process.

The other day Hailey and I were studying our scriptures when she turned to me, and asked, "When will this pain go away that is in my heart? I go to school, and I pretend that I am okay, but I can't get past this pain in my heart."

My heart hurt a little as I listened to her describe her difficulty with Brandon's passing. As I listened, I prayed for a way to answer. And then I said what came to mind. I explained that the pain was going to take a while to go away. It wasn't just going to happen. I said that it was okay to be sad, and that we needed to give ourselves time to mourn; however, we also needed to keep living life. The old phrase, "fake it 'till you make it" was true with this situation. I told her that everyday we needed to wake up, and keep going, and at times it would feel like we were "faking" our happiness, but over time those "faking" moments would become less and less. I told her that it was tempting for me to curl up in a ball, cover my head with a blanket, lock my doors and simply shut out life; however, I told her that we can't push out life--we have to keep moving forward with faith, trusting in God. I told her that allowing despair to overcome us, would not help us but hurt us--and our faith. When Eric died, I learned that the best way to overcome was to continue in faith, putting one foot in front of the other until I found myself on the other side of my grief. I don't think it means that we can't cry when we need to cry. Nor does it mean that we can't talk about our sadness, but I do believe that we can't live every moment of every day in complete sadness--we have to keep moving--even when it is difficult.

This is a lesson we all continue to strive to accomplish. As we put one foot in front of the other and as we pray for strength, our faith deepens, and we feel the Lord's sustaining us--even through moments of trial. My sweet Amber has had this lesson magnified in her life. Brandon's passing has created many fears for my little girl. As she struggles with these fears, she has had to rely on her faith and on our faith as she learns to choose faith over fear. She misses Brandon. She wishes he was still here. However, I think her pain extends a bit deeper. Amber was with me when I found out that Brandon had passed away. She saw all of my reactions--my crying and my praying. I have often reflected on this and have wondered if I could have or should have reacted differently, if I could have protected her a bit more. As the weeks have passed, and as she continues to struggle, I have decided that this is my part in choosing faith. I have to believe that this is part of our journey, that we will both be better for this struggle, that our faith will grow, and that this will provide us with the opportunity of becoming what the Lord wants us to become. It is through these trials that we are chiseled and molded. Faith is believing that no matter what happens is for our good. At the moment, Amber struggles with the fear that I am going to die--after all, two of my siblings have already passed away--why not another? This fear is so real to her that choosing faith is sometimes difficult. However, she is working daily at replacing her fears with faith through prayer. I have no doubt that Amber will continue choosing faith over fear, and I pray that I will continually be guided in helping her.

A few months ago I gave a talk on fear vs. faith. The words I wrote, I have continually resurfaced in my mind as I work at helping my family overcome. Here is some of what I wrote:

The second part of our scripture states, “be not afraid”. When we are fearful, we allow the world to get in the way of our ultimate goal and our faith is weakened. I think I am just beginning to understand the process of fear and faith. This past summer, I had an experience while at Roaring Springs that has broadened my understanding. 

While we were in the Lazy River, all of a sudden, a panicked lifeguard was pointing, running, and blowing on her whistle. As I turned to see what she was pointing at, I could see a lifeless toddler on the bottom of the pool. I ran to assist the drowning child. I'm not sure why I didn't let go of Jacob, so that I could better help the child—Jacob was on a tube, and completely fine, but my mind didn't register that I needed both of my hands to better assist the drowning child. Instead, I tried frantically to lift the body with my one remaining hand. When the lifeguard finally arrived, she quickly pulled the child the rest of the way out of the water. It was then that I realized the child was only a mannequin—a decoy in an effort to train the lifeguard. I walked away from the lifeguard crying silently. I kept chiding myself for being upset--all the while, grateful that it WAS a mannequin and not a real child. I think this experience was simply too close to home for me.

When I was seventeen, my brother drowned. When he died, I found myself afraid to participate in water activities. My father told me that I couldn’t allow fear to control my actions. He taught me the importance of being faithful and not fearful. He taught me that it was a choice. This experience at Roaring Springs took me back twenty years to the time when my brother was pulled out of a river, and all of those fears came rushing back. After my experience at Roaring Springs, there are two lessons I’m beginning to understand. 

First, I believe fear works against faith. When we face our fears with faith, God is near. In D&C it states, "Search diligently, pray always, and be believing and all things will work together for your good." That is what faith is all about--it is believing that no matter what happens is for our good. I may not understand everything in my life, there may be uncertainties, and most definitely there will be bad things that happen--I cannot prevent that—fearing the bad will not stop the bad from coming; however, it will work against my faith by negating my trust in God.

The second lesson I am learning is that living by faith--not fear is something I choose. When my faith is strong, I am able to face the difficulties of each new day. In these moments, I am seeking the Lord, I am praying, and I am making Him a part of my life. It is in these moments that I am full of faith. And then there are times when I allow my problems or fears to overwhelm me. I feel anxious, and worried—I forget to seek the source of my strength—(my Heavenly Father)—and I react poorly to the situations in my life. I am beginning to think that these are moments of fear.

Gregory Clark spoke at a BYU Devotional, and he said that it seems to be contradicting when we know that the Gospel is true (Gregory Clark, “Some Lessons on Faith and Fear, BYU Devotional, May 6, 2008), and yet we have to continually remind ourselves to choose faith rather than fear. He then explained with a story from the Bible.

On a boat, in a stormy sea—Jesus was awakened by his apostles:

“Master, carest thou not that we perish?” (Mark 4:38).

The Lord calmed the storm, and then asked them, “Why are ye so fearful? How is it that ye have no faith?”(Mark 4:40).

The disciples had sat at the Savior’s feet. They had witnessed the Savior’s power. The Savior was on the boat with them, and they knew that the Savior’s mission on earth was not yet complete; however, at that moment—it was difficult to see past the raging storm. Brother Clark explained this situation by saying, “their memories of His works and His words and their hope in the future reality of His promises were not, at that moment, nearly so real to them as the storm…at that moment, the only things they had perfect knowledge of were the intensity of the storm, the fragility of their boat, the depth of the water, and their distance from the shore. At that moment their mortal senses were filled with fear: They could see and hear and feel the threat of their circumstances” (Gregory Clark, “Some Lessons on Faith and Fear, BYU Devotional, May 6, 2008).

And so it is with us, we know the gospel of the Restoration is true, but what we don’t know is how or when our trials will be resolved. The Lord has promised us that He will be with us, but at times—living in the day to day moments—it is easy to be uncertain (Gregory Clark, “Some Lessons on Faith and Fear, BYU Devotional, May 6, 2008).

When President Hinckley spoke at his wife’s funeral he set an example of choosing faith over fear. He said, “It isn’t as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out. Don’t worry. I say that to myself every morning. It will all work out. . . . Put your trust in God, and move forward with faith and confidence in the future. The Lord will not forsake us. He will not forsake us. . . . If we will put our trust in Him, if we will pray to Him, if we will live worthy of His blessings, He will hear our prayers” [Gordon B. Hinckley, quoted in Latter-day Counsel, “Excerpts from Addresses of President Gordon B. Hinckley, ”Ensign, October 2000, 73; see also “Put Your Trust in God, “Ensign, February 2006, 63].

I love President Hinckley's example. I am so grateful that Heavenly Father allowed me to read this quote just a few weeks prior to Brandon's passing. Brandon's birthday is today. I miss him dearly--today maybe especially. Brandon and I were best friends as kids--we did everything together. Even as I became a teenager, and he a grade school-er--he was always at my side. I wanted him to be there. I liked having him around. As we have developed into adults, I still liked having him around, and I wish he could be around even now celebrating his birthday. If I could talk to him one last time, I would tell him how much I love him. I would tell him how proud I was to be his sister. I would tell him "thank you" for being such an awesome example. I have no doubt that he sees me and hears me even now. I have faith in God's plan, and although my heart hurts because I miss him, I choose faith.

Losing two brothers at an early age has taught me the importance of cherishing each and every moment with our loved ones. I am determined to show more love, to show more kindness, to be a little better. I thought I learned this lesson 20 years ago when Eric passed away; however, with Brandon's passing, my desire has been strengthened anew, and I am determined to somehow be even better--it will be my gift to them.

Brandon and I at our ranch house. We were always together.

Brandon, Stephanie (my cousin) and I after I went to college. Still pretty tight. Brandon is wearing a bracelet I started when Eric passed away. (I still wear mine.) It is a fishing swivel bracelet. It means to "fish for the worth of souls in men, for the worth of souls is great in the sight of God". I gave this bracelet to everyone I knew admonishing others to cherish the moments they had with their loved ones. I now feel I need something to symbolize Brandon--something perfect for him--something to help him live with me always.

This was taken just a few weeks before he passed away. Each and every day is precious. I wish I could have more days with Brandon. I remember wishing for the same sentiment with Eric. These life lessons teach me to cherish the people we love, to live each day to the fullest, and to say "I love you" a bit more often.

This picture was taken for Jacob's baptism book. Jacob was baptized this past Saturday (April 11). It was a beautiful experience. The spirit was strong. Both of my parents said that they felt Brandon's and Eric's presence as Jacob was baptized. I am so grateful for the plan of salvation, and the knowledge I have that families are forever! 

My talk at Brandon's funeral (when I gave this talk, I know that Christ's atonement carried me):

The last few days as I have reflected on my little brother, my relationship with him, and his relationships with others, and I have come to realize what it looks like to be a hero.

As I have contemplated my time with Brandon, I can’t help but think of our childhood. Brandon and I were inseparable. We did everything together. I remember him coming with me wherever I went. Even into high school, he was at my side hanging with my friends. I never thought it odd to have him at my side despite our six year gap in age. I liked him around. Perhaps we were so tight, because of his diabetes. It was always my job to watch him and to take care of him. When he was younger, this was sometimes difficult as I wasn’t always as responsible as ought to have been. I remember on one occasion when it was my responsibility to make sure Brandon had eaten after he had awakened. I was so busy cleaning the house that I forgot to check on him. I honestly believe that the Spirit prompted my memory. When I finally ran to Brandon’s side, his eyes were glazed over and he was having an insulin reaction. I remember calling to my father while shoving honey down his mouth. We worked for a long period of time trying to get some sort of response from Brandon.  While we worked, I prayed. I prayed like I never had prayed before. I was so afraid that my little brother was dying, and I felt it in my heart that it was my fault. Just before the ambulance arrived, my little brother turned to my father and told him, “They’re here to get me, dad. They’re here to get me. Do you see them? There in the corner, dad, and they are nice. I want to go with them.” I remember my dad saying, “You can’t go with them. We need you here. I’m not letting you go. Tell them to go away. You can’t go this time.” Brandon was rushed to the hospital, and awoke from a coma a few days later. I remember the joy I felt as he was allowed to stay with us this time, and I remember solidifying with my heart my role as his protector.  

When we were younger, I looked out for Brandon, but as we grew, our roles changed a bit as did the dynamic of our relationship. It was almost as if he had learned what he needed to learn, and it was his time to begin being the person he was always destined to become. While serving a mission, he often wrote in his journal his desires to do all that the Lord wanted. Page after page reflected on his desire to do all that the Lord wanted of him, and his determination to do better. On one particular day, he wrote, “I only hope that I can meet my goal of being certified, then go on to work hard, and progress to my best. I don’t care if it kills me. I want to be a missionary who everyone can say, ‘He was great!’ I want to be good friend to everyone, and be 100% obedient…to the mission rules…I’ll do my best to learn all that I can, and I know the Lord will bless me. Hopefully I will grow into someone better, and someone the Lord will be proud.”

I think Brandon accomplished his goals while on his mission, and he continued to do so after. While Brandon was serving, I had an opportunity to talk to Brandon during one of those few times he could call home. During that time in my life, I was facing a trial that was causing me great stress. It wasn't my plan to share with him my struggle; however, somehow through our conversation he pulled from me my trial. As we talked, he counseled me spiritually, he encouraged me, and he left me with his testimony. I remember hanging up from that phone call reflecting on the role reversal that had just happened. I was touched. I was strengthened.

I know that I am not the only one he touched while serving. One friend who served with him said, “As a missionary I looked to Brandon as an example. He truly loved the people he taught.” Another fellow missionary wrote that he was such a great leader and teacher. Another said that he was considered to be half the mission, because he worked so hard to do so much work.

Strengthening others and giving little thought for himself has been a theme for Brandon. This past few months I have had the special opportunity of Brandon staying in my home as he has traveled to Boise for work. My kids have loved having him in our home, and have cherished his fun, upbeat personality. On one particular evening during dinner, Brandon rescued my son, and I think Jacob will forever love Brandon for his kindness. I had placed jars of money on the table. Each child had their own jar filled with their own coins. I had decided I was going to charge them for poor manners. I was grasping at anything to help my children learn to eat with manners. Brandon couldn't believe that I was going to charge my kids for bad manners, and we joked back and forth about it throughout dinner. It was always light-hearted and funny, but it was definitely apparent that Brandon didn't think poor little Jake should be charged for chewing with his mouth opened. After dinner was over, Brandon dug into his pant pockets and pulled out a quarter for Jake. Jake was thrilled and hugged Brandon for coming to his rescue. I laughed and told Jake that Brandon wouldn't always be there to save him. That night as we were gathered for Family Home Evening, Hailey leaned over and told Brandon that she loved him. He quickly responded, “I don’t have any more money”. To which we all laughed. Even though Hailey wasn't asking for money when she expressed her love for Brandon, I am sure that if Brandon had another quarter, he would have given her that, and more. When we were kids, he wrote a poem about Disneyland, his family. The last line of the poem illustrates Brandon’s desires to go the extra mile for anyone or anything—something he strived for his entire life. The poem reads:

My Family Is Disneyland

Happy Like a Dog

My Dad Is A Pirate Ship

Strong But Full Of Jewels

My Mom Is a Indiana Jones Ride

Scary Sometimes But Fun To Be Around

My Sister Is the Little Tea Cups

Wickedly Winded Inside But Screaming With Fun

And I’m Splash Mountain Ride

Around Every Corner I’m Ready to Take a Big Jump for Anyone!

He truly was ready to take a big jump for anyone. This last week my daughter was being tested for diabetes. Brandon was so concerned about her because of all the trials he has been through with the disease. He was also concerned about her future with diabetes. Because he was so concerned he text-ed me asking me to buy an insurance plan that would protect her for her life. My husband and I felt at peace, and didn't feel we needed the plan, so we declined. The last text I received from Brandon said, “Will you allow me to buy them for you? I’m just really scared that with our families’ medical history, it will be impossible to get insurance if we don’t do kids policies now.” When I received this text, my heart was full of love for my little brother. He was truly genuine and kind, and constantly thinking of others when he—himself was ill. This text came on Tuesday. The day before he died. I feel somewhat blown away that I never realized the magnitude of his pain or his sicknesses. When he came to Boise right after a chemo treatment, he acted as if it was just another day. I had no idea that the chemo treatments were painful, or that any of his treatments were causing him pain. It wasn't until his doctor came to pay his respects that I realized the magnitude of Brandon’s pain. I was shocked as he explained that Brandon ran on half the blood that others did, that Brandon was unique because he was extremely sick, but that he didn't allow his sicknesses to define him. Rather than complaining about how he felt, he was always looking to do better, to accomplish something more, or to help someone else. The doctor explained that he was always positive, and was always willing to work hard. Brandon made an impression on a team of doctors that knew the magnitude of his pain. I suppose this is one of Brandon’s legacies. I wish I knew just how much Brandon dealt with on a daily basis—I saw him, and loved him, but I had I known—I could have been more; however, I think his not willing to dwell on his pain speaks volumes about Brandon’s character.

Brandon’s favorite scripture was D&C 122:7-8. It reads, “And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. The Son of man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?”

After Brandon passed, a friend of Brandon’s said, “Years ago Brandon told me that this was one of his favorite scriptures. With all the health issues he has gone through, it’s little wonder why he chose that particular one. Brandon is a fighter and a humble one at that. He optimizes this scriptures and I’m sure he will continue to fight up above.”

Just before Brandon passed away, he sent me a testimony for my son’s baptism. I feel his testimony offers strength to those of us left behind. He said,

“The power of prayer is real, and Heavenly Father listens to our prayers. Sometimes in life what we feel we need is not always what Heavenly Father has in store for us. Sometimes we must go through trials so that Heavenly Father can prepare us for duties in this life and the next. As we go through trials we gain strength and understanding of the atonement. The atonement was not just for sins, but for everything we go through, such as pain, fear, and struggles we may go through in life. I know that Jesus Christ has suffered and felt everything that we may feel in our lives so that He may know how to help us, and has understanding of those struggles so He can help.”

These words have been such a blessing to me as I struggle with his passing. It is almost as if he wrote them for me, for this day. I am grateful for my knowledge of the Plan of Salvation, and my understanding that this life isn't the end.

Brandon had many near death experiences throughout his life. My dad feels that it was faith, along with priesthood blessings that kept him with us. This last time as my dad gave Brandon a priesthood blessing, he felt the Lord say “not this time”, and he knew it was Brandon’s time.

Russell M. Nelson said, “Life does not begin with birth, nor does it end with death.... Before embarking on any journey, we like to have some assurance of a round-trip ticket… We were born to die, and we die to live. (See 2 Cor. 6:9.) As seedlings of God, we barely blossom on earth; we fully flower in heaven.

He further stated, “Moreover, we can’t fully appreciate joyful reunions later without tearful separations now. The only way to take sorrow out of death is to take love out of life.”

So, what does a hero look like? It looks like Brandon’s example of love, his courage to fight despite any challenge, and his example of faith.  I love Brandon with all of my heart, I am so grateful that I have had him here to bless me, to teach me, to help me on my journey of becoming all that God wants me to become. I have no doubt that the life lessons Brandon left behind will not be lost—they will be remembered. He is a hero, and his heroism will live on, and someday we will have a joyous reunion, and oh—how sweet it will be.

Pictures of my brothers grace our home...