THE CIRCLE IS BROKEN

Andy, my oldest brother, passed away yesterday on Halloween. Barbara called in the early afternoon to tell me that he was not doing well and was unresponsive, and that some of the children were with him. A few hours later she called to tell me that he was gone.

Andy was 20 years older than I am. He was in the Navy when I was born in 1946. He served a mission in North Carolina. We were separated by age and interest and geography until the last several years. I have been blessed to get to know him better than I ever did before. He was bright and witty--sharper than a honed rapier sometimes. He was giving. I visited him often in his Logan home and never left empty handed. He was tolerant sometimes, unless confronted with hot air or insincerity. He was more philosophical than spiritual mostly.

After the second call from Barbara, I sat at the kitchen table and my eyes were drawn to the poster on the wall with individual pictures of all the kids that we gave to Lydia last Christmas. I scanned the photos of my twelve children and felt . . . something. Mortality ends. There is eternity in all of us but not in our flesh and . One day all of my children. will pass the quiet marker between the worlds and will be in a new place with other people. I expect that I will not be around to see it, but one day the first of my children will slip away to a better place where Lydia and I will be waiting for them. It is the circle of life.

Andy had been ill, and had spend the past year or so in assisted-living facilities. His health was not not good and none of us expected him to be around for a long time, but a couple of weeks ago, the doctor thought he might have a couple of months. The end came quickly. This summer he was in Sunshine Terrace where we stopped to see him on our way to a sibling reunion at Bear Lake. He seemed happy enough, but resigned and not at all inclined to get up and go with us to the Lake.Andy has insisted that he does not want a funeral and that he wants his body donated to science and then cremated. He did say we could have a party for him so we will do that at the Coppermill in Logan a week from Saturday.

It must be nice for Andy to be in a place where almost everything works. I thought of this when Mom left. In fact, I made a comment at her funeral about how it must be for one who can hardly walk to experience the joy of flying! Brigham Young said this about the experience Andy had on Wednesday:

We are brought forth for the express purpose of preparing ourselves through our faithfulness to inherit eternal life. . . [When we die} what will be our condition, what will be the nature of our pursuits in a state of being in which we shall possess more vigor and a higher degree of intelligence than we possess here? . . . We shall . . . look about upon it and think . . . why this is the greatest advantage of my whole existence, for I have passed from a state of sorrow, grief, mourning, woe, misery, pain, anguish and disappointment into a state of existence, where I can enjoy life to the fullest extent . . . My spirit is set free, I thirst no more, I want to sleep no more, I hunger no more, I tire no more, I run, I walk, I labor, I go, I come, I do this, I do that, whatever is required of me, nothing like pain or weariness, I am full of life, full of vigor, and I enjoy the presence of my heavenly Father, by the power of his Spirit. (Brigham Young: JD, Vol. 17, p. 143)

I said at the beginning that the circle is broken, but of course it is not. It is a larger circle now, encompassing invisible worlds, but still wonderfully intact.

Goodbye, Andy.