Thursday, July 26, 2012

It didn't turn out that way

Yesterday, we buried my Brother-in-Law, Michael Allen Holmblad.  Mike was 43 years old.  Right up until one week before he passed, I was still confident and praying God would send a miracle.  It didn't turn out that way.

I learned a great deal through traveling this path with Janine, Mike, Luke and Josh.  I developed, for the first time since his birth, a very deep and genuine relationship with my nephew, Lucas.  Not unlike the relationship I had with Josh.  Jim once told me it was always very evident to him how much Josh meant to me and that I would do anything for him.  I didn't realize it was that evident,    :)    but I'm glad it was, and I hope it was that evident to Josh too.  I feel the same way about Luke, and I hope he and I can enjoy a similar type of relationship that Josh and I did, but one that is still unique to the two of us.  He is warm and calm and creative and has opened his heart up to me.  I will make sure I treat it respectfully and lovingly.  Always.

I learned that Josh has grown into a man.  A wonderful man. No longer just internally focused, as a teenager might be, he truly stepped outside of himself in helping his family - especially his mom - through this ordeal.  Unafraid, but not really reckless.  Hard working, but not driven by money. Respectful and sensitive, I think he will make some lucky woman a wonderful partner.  I hope she can return the favor.

I learned that Mike's character went far, far deeper than I imagined.  I wish I had found a way to discover and appreciate that long ago.  I can only imagine the relationship we might have had.  I waited too long to discover his true character.  That's what I learned - don't wait.  Find out about the people who are loved by the people you love.  Find a way in.  Mike was stoic and a very private person, but I think I could have found a way to get to know him.  Instead, I stood by his bedside at the end of his life and promised him that I would help watch after his family when he was gone.  And he told me how much that meant to him.  Pretty late to just be startin' the meaningful discussions.  *sigh*

I learned the most about my sister.  There was not a falter in her step.  Every day, every conversation, every action, was focused on getting her family through this.  She would wriggle through every obstacle relentlessly.  When treatment or service or even options were not the ones that she could accept, she made sure the people that mattered knew it, and she made sure something was done about it.  And for all that strength, she would never for a second hesitate to demonstrate her devotion to Mike from the toughest to the simpliest of ways - from sleepless nights-into-days-into-nights by his bedside, to a gentle kiss on the back of his hand, even though he was unconscious.  From having the impossible discussion about end-of-life decisions, to making sure Mike didn't have to lay on 'girlie' sheets in the end.  Always for him.  Never for her.

I will miss Mike.  What is different, is that I will miss him not as much as because he is gone, as because I didn't take the time to get to know him when he was here.  God Bless You, Mike.