I could talk about how incredibly difficult it is to go see Ben in his current state, to see him suffering. But it is so, deeply painful that the image makes me feel like I've been kicked in the stomach and I can't quite catch my breath.
I made the mistake today of sitting down to play the piano for some "therapy". (Piano - for me - is the best therapist around). The problem was that I found myself playing hymn arrangements, and pretty soon came to a medley of "God Be With You 'Til We Meet Again" and "He is Risen". Needless to say I cried all the way through...I really should have skipped it, but I just couldn't. As I imagine seeing Ben again "at Jesus' feet", without the affliction of his earthly prison of a body, it both makes me happy for him, and very sad for myself. We are ready to say goodbye, because we are ready to see him free of his pain. But at the same time, I can't really quite come to grips with the heaviness of not having him around for the rest of my earthly life, or my kids not getting to really know him.
So, I wanted to think about some good times we've had, so excuse my little walk down memory lane. I am, unfortunately, cursed with a really bad memory. But these are a few things I do remember.
- Ben taught me how to dump out a cereal box into a giant mixing bowl in order to find the prize at the bottom, and then get the cereal back into the bag without mom ever knowing.
- Ben gave me my first piercing when we were on a family fishing trip. He went to cast his line and instead, caught my earlobe. The hook went straight through. He ran off into the woods while my dad worked to get the hook out (I was 5, he would have been about 8). At the time I thought he was just mean until later down the road Aspen told me he had gone off to the woods because he felt so bad.
- Ben, having 3 sisters, would try to play Barbies with us by using his constructs to build wagons. We always played pioneers with the Barbies so he could play the horses and "Kenny" and be the wagon builder.
- Ben was always asking for and bringing home animals. We had fish, salamanders, frogs, guinea pigs (which had babies) rats, mice, hamsters, gerbils, parakeets, dogs and cats. Somehow he ALWAYS knew of someone who had puppies or kittens and was able to get mom and dad to let us have one. He also somehow made friends with neighbors who had horses and we were able to go riding a lot because of him. One time we caught a snake out in the back yard and Ben wanted to give it something to eat. So we went to the garden center that also sold small animals to buy a mouse. He convinced me to use my money to buy a little white mouse for the snake to eat. We put the mouse in the box with the snake and waited. Nothing happened. I quickly grew upset and no longer wanted the mouse to be the snake's food. Ben agreed and we ended up keeping the mouse as a pet and letting the snake go.
- There was always an adventure to be had with Ben around. We were always hiking to Turtle Rock, the waterfall or salamander pond. I remember he started building a tree house in the mountains and let us tag along with him. I'm sure we annoyed him, but we thought it was so awesome that our brother was so "resourceful".
- He also always had something with a motor he was fixing or building. It started out small with little motorcycles, go-carts and three-wheelers. But pretty soon he was building Jeeps and cars with my dad. I remember how incredibly awesome and proud I felt driving around in his big Bronco with him.
- One time we were on a family vacation in Moab, and for some reason Ben and I were going to head home the night before the rest of the family. I can't remember why, but I was supposed to ride with him to keep him awake. I remember trying SO HARD to stay awake. The next thing I knew, I woke up and we had been driving for a good hour or more. Ben just laughed at me and told me I wasn't doing such a good job at keeping him company.
There are so many more memories....but it really boils down to this: Life with Ben has been great. I will miss him more than words could ever convey. But I know he will be okay, and we will be okay. And I know that someday, I will get to see him again "At Jesus' Feet".
