My little brother Norman –
When I was 5 years old, it was a great experience when my brother Norman was born at home. A healthy little boy until he was 3 years old. A mysterious illness hit and I witnessed my mother kneeling by his bed praying for God to take him Home if he could not get better. Almost immediately he began to improve. We were so blessed to be born into that kind of family, dependent on the will of our awesome all-seeing, all-knowing, all-caring God.
When Norman was a little older, he and Mother were making the trek up the long driveway to the mailbox. Mother asked Norman if he would like for her to hold his hand. He said, “No thanks, I will hold it” and hold it he did! He was a unique little guy. He loved to read and spent hours poring over the World Book Encyclopedia volumes that Mother was selling at that time. As he expressed it, he really did like his own company and when we had visitors, as we did almost every Sunday after church, he would go out in the woods and read a book under his favorite tree.
I married when I was 19 years old and moved to Niagara Falls and later Lewiston, NY. We missed a lot of our own grown-up time together, but became especially close in the last few years. We were able to bond together, holding close and dear those values taught to us when we were kids in a home that centered around the love of God and Jesus - home and family and neighbors.
Norman told me that every day he would walk with his dog and talk to God. How precious! He loved the outdoors and God’s world. We are all part of the only story that never ends. So I picture Norman walking with his dog toward that light that shines to take away all darkness, pain and suffering. We promised each other that we wanted to spend eternity together with God, family and all the rich grace that was promised when God sent His Son into the world, to save this world, not condemn it. How wonderful is that promise – the greatest gift of all. It is that love that will hold us all together forever.
I am sad that illness prevents us from “coming home” to be with family. With love, Maurine (and George).