Last evening I went to a memorial service for my brother Harold. An intimate affair I am sure he enjoyed very much. An old friend and business associate of his spoke at length about him and it was a comfort to all there. The chaplain from the hospital came to speak to us gathered. It was a touching tribute from someone that only brushed his life briefly. Everyone was given the opportunity to speak if they wished and I remained silent. The bible verses from Ecclesiastes keep running through my mind, for everything there is a season and to everything there is a time. My thoughts went to my brother.
Harold was a man of all seasons having done just about everything. A man of many talents and great confidence. I remember him working at Whites Pharmacy, his first job, and before long taking charge. That is the way he was, a take charge of the situation kinda guy. I will not say that he knew everything and was always right, but he would take the bull by the horns !  Fearless I would say. He wrote me letters during his Navy days and sent me a navy magazine. That magazine had a centerfold as an attraction. Modestly clad by todays standards, it was quite the treat for a boy my age, and Mom allowed it because of Harold. He was my big brother and protected me from would be bullies and taught me ” things. “
After the service was completed I said my condolences and departed. My wife and daughter in law remarked that they thought I might speak. Yes, they know me and I usually have something to say. I had to think about why I hadn’t and I think I have figured that out. I was angry. I was angry at God that he should have taken my brother. To all things there is a season but it didn’t have to be that season, not yet ! Yes, there is a time to live and a time to die but I didn’t believe it was his time. And so, like a child with his parents, I was angry. I was angry with God. I had forgotten, in my grief, that I am a child of God. And that God knows the time and the season I have no control over that. I acted like a spoiled child.
Some of that is because of my brother. He spoiled me when we were children and to a certain extent to his dying day. He was a larger than life brother and friend. I feel his presence yet and expect I always will. to all things there is a time and a season. I will be with my brother again, in due time. I am forever in his debt and even in his death he continues to teach me things. Now that is a good brother.