A Windy Day With My Brother

“And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.” (Ephesians 4:32)

I lost my brother, Carlton, a few weeks ago. He was the finest man I ever knew, and that puts him the company of a lot of other good men, like my dad.

At his funeral, I shared a story that I had never told anyone. It was a very special memory for me and speaks to the man he was.

My childhood years were very tough for me. At the age of six, I watched my dad as he was arrested in our living room one Sunday morning for a crime he didn’t commit. One year later, my mother died unexpectedly while having minor surgery. Afterwards, my father was convicted as my family sat in the courtroom while his lawyer begged for mercy, explaining to the judge that his two young children of 5 and 7 had just lost their mother. “Let this man go home with his children, Your Honor, and be the father they need.” The judge agreed and gave my dad a suspended sentence.

Getting a job was tough for my dad. He could not find full-time work for quite some time, cobbling together several part-time jobs to keep food on the table and a roof over his children’s heads.

That season of my life was difficult and a defining time for me. I was confused and angry after having lost my mother, and did not understand the situation in which my father found himself. I had no idea how much our lives had changed. I knew something was happening, and could see the pain in my father’s face. I felt sorry for him.

It was during this time that Carlton – who was sixteen years older than me and married – came over one Sunday afternoon. He brought a kite with him and a box with several balls of twine. “Let’s go fly it,” he told me. I was so excited.

We flew that kite for a couple of hours. It got so high in the air, I could hardly see it. My brother and I decided to cut the string, and chase it. We jumped in his car and I gave directions while he drove. Interestingly it landed in the cemetery five miles away, near my mom’s grave and what is now my brother’s grave. That’s when I thought of this story.

That day, and in that moment, my brother helped me forget my troubles. He helped me be the kid I needed to be. I needed that Sunday afternoon, and I am forever grateful to my brother for giving it to me, and showing how much he cared about me. He loved me.
Every Christmas we struggle with what to get each other. It is such a stressful time of the year. The truth is simple gifts, like spending a little time together, can mean everything. And spending time with each other can create a very special memory. The kite wasn’t expensive but the memory is priceless.

Tomorrow is not promised and should never be taken for granted. Take the time this Christmas season to let your loved ones how precious they are. Treasure your time with them.