#nationalsibilingday

  When I lost my brother, I found it hard to listen to anyone who couldn't get along with their siblings. I would bristle when they would talk negatively about them. I couldn't understand that if they had a sibling why they wouldn't want to make it the best relationship they could. But, I grew up. And, I realized that I was/am the lucky one.
  When my brother found out he was having a baby sister instead of brother, he got mad. When he held me for the first time, he fell in love. I do believe I am a small, insignificant shadow of who Andrew thought I was. I hope to one day live up to his view of me. But, if you could only have known him. If you did, you are blessed beyond measure. If you didn't, your world is missing a grand piece of sunlight. I will never presume to know why God took him before what I thought was his time. But he did.
  For (almost) 5 years, I have had to be okay with this fact. I don't want this post to be about his death or my lack of life without him. I want it to be a celebration of our lives together. I remember sitting in the lobby of St. Raphael Hall in Conception Seminary talking with Father A. His question to me, "Do you think you could love someone if Andrew were still alive?" This question still pounds through my heart.
  But, why do I bring that up? Because the love I shared with this man was the most complete love. We were inseparable and pieces of the same mold. Granted, we were complete opposites. He was the loud one--the one who could make friends in less than 10 seconds. I was the wallflower. He was the one people admired. I was the one people were leery of. However, at the end of the day...he and I became so similar we were hard to distinguish.
  And, I bring this up, because my answer then: "I don't know," to what it then became: "maybe," to what it is now: "I don't think so," to what I believe is the truth: "no," has led me on a journey that isn't without Andrew...it is just with me emulating him more and more. I truly do believe he would be proud. Perhaps a little disappointed at times, but proud none-the-less.
   I sometimes think of St. Andrew and St. Peter. Peter was a putz. I do not say this to demean the father of my faith. I say this to distinguish between who I consider Andrew to be, and perhaps who I am. Who was the first? St. Andrew, the first called. Who brought faith to his brother? St. Andrew, the first called. So it was with us. Andrew was the first, the faith bringer. I am the putz, Peter. However, I believe if it were not for St. Andrew sharing his faith with his brother, Peter wouldn't have been the putz Jesus was looking for in his ministry. So it is with us. Andrew has paved my way...and I hope to follow in the ways of which he walked.
   As much as I wish I could have followed him beyond the veil, Andrew so graciously said this:

"Why do we want to chase after others across the bar, when our Pilot has given us an opportunity to sail solo for a short time?  It is in the solitude that we can grow closer to our Pilot.  His healing comes with the tears, in the silence.  Peace with the grief.  Embrace the plotted journey 'til we see Him face to face."

   To all those who have lost siblings, be blessed this day. May the beautiful memories that you shared be more vibrant this day. May we, whose siblings have passed, grow closer to our Pilot. And, for those who have siblings...embrace them, and if you can't, pray for them.