My Brother

"To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters.
We know each other as we always were. We know each other's hearts. We
share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family
griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time." - Clara Ortega

I have been wanting to write this post for awhile, but just couldn't get the words out. My brother, Jon, tragically passed away in a river rafting accident in Idaho on June 3 of this year. He lived in Colorado and was an avid outdoorsman. He loved snowskiing and hiking with his dog Morgan, but took to the river years ago and never looked back. He had been a guide for commercial trips on the Arkansas River in Colorado in years past and in recent years had spent summers taking trips on big rivers out west. He was a skilled guide on the water and was known for how safe and cautious he was. In June, he left for a trip down the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho with some river friends. He had already done this section of the river two years prior. As they were going over rapids, he fell out into very cold water and although he was not under long at all, something happened to him in the water and he went into cardiac arrest. There was an experienced paramedic on the trip and he worked hard to get my brother back. But it wasn't to be.
At times, I can hardly believe this happened and, at times, it is all too real. My family lost my grandfather in a river rafting accident in Utah in 2000. He was 74 and was the reason my brother was so drawn to the water and the west and the outdoors. I am still in disbelief that lightning has struck twice in my family. One of the greatest sadnesses in all this is that I don't get to see my children grow up with their Uncle Jon. I don't get to see him get married or get to know the children he might have had. It is a devastating loss.

At some point after all of this happened, I heard a young men's acapella group singing the old spiritual "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot". And listening to it, I had the image in my mind of angels over the river carrying my brother home.

"I looked over Jordan, and what did I see, Comin' for to carry me home, 

A band of angels comin' after me, Comin' for to carry me home"

It might sound hokey, but it gave me great peace. I am taking comfort that, while the loss of my brother has been a shock to me, that nothing takes God by surprise. He was there on that river and He is here in my grief.

I have been able to spend time this summer in Colorado with my brother's sweet girlfriend, Karen, and with many of his friends who were like family to him. Grateful for all of them and the wonderful memories they have shared. It has been very healing to be in the place he loved so much with the people (and dogs) he loved so dearly.

Jon and his lovely girlfriend, Karen.

I am still at a loss of words to say, but I wanted to share here how much my brother is missed. He was only 18 months younger than me and I don't remember life before him. He is the one person with whom I have the most shared experiences with. It is unfathomable to me that he is gone. I found the quote I posted above sometime this summer and it sums up so well what I feel. We know each other as we always were ... we live outside the touch of time.

At my wedding in 2004. Love this.

My brother, sister, Britton and me at the Grove in October 2008.

We have always joked that Britton was Jon's mini-me.

Yep ... mini-me.

Jon and his beloved black lab, Morgan, on the river several years ago.

An essay he wrote in elementary school... "My dream life would be to live in the Colorado Rockies." I'm so glad he lived his dream.