This morning my brother went home to God. He died peacefully, at home as he had wished. My sister was with him. She had cared so well for him these past few months and he was so grateful. But he was grateful, truly grateful for everyone who came to see him, to visit, to care for him.
I saw him last night via FaceTime. He didn’t look good. That’s an understatement. I could barely understand him. But before we said… Come to think of it, we didn’t say goodbye. As we ended our conversation I said simply “I love you.” And clear as a bell, through the pain and morphine he replied “Love you too, man.”
A priest came to see him. Many priests had been to see him. He gave him last rites, Viaticum, and an apostolic pardon.
When my mom called to tell me this morning she said “All I ever wanted was for my children to go to heaven.”
I’d say she’s four for four.
Rest in peace, brother. I love you.