Let the Dead Bury the Dead

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I received a call from the County Administrator’s Office more commonly called: the Coroner’s Office or the Morgue.  The Sheriff Investigator stated my brother was still not buried.

My brother died three months ago… He was a Nomad Gypsy who owned nothing more than the clothes on his back, a van he was working on to live in, and the tools he could work with, even those tools were used, worthless to most of us. He was 64 years old at the time of his death, living in a rented 10×10 room in the back of a trailer.

I found out he was sick by one of his FaceBook friends.  She said, “ Your brother is not looking too good, you might want go see him. I tried to call him and got no answer. Reluctantly I went to his house because it was late and I really didn’t see the urgency.

When I got to his house, he was glad to see me. His legs were swollen and he had a tube in his nose with an oxygen tank next to him. We talked a while and I said, ”Eddie you know you are going to die.”   He said, “I know Ronnie.” Are you afraid? No…

The next day I got another call, this time he was in the hospital.

I was at the hospital when he died. He was unconscious, hooked up to at least five different IV bags, a ventilator, blood pressure monitor, and heart rate monitor. The nurse told me he was going to die and asked if I wanted to take him off life support, I told her no. I went out to my car sat and there and prayed. I had made a decision, but by the time I got back to my brothers room the nurse told me they got approval to take him off life support.

I was pretty sure my brother was going to die. So I stayed with him for about five hours as he laid there helpless and unconscious watching the monitors as they slowly indicated my brother was no longer there. I held his hand as life slipped away from him, felt the warmth of his body in my hand as his body temperature cooled and the monitors slowly shut down and stopped.

My brother was no longer there in the hospital, he was gone. His body was there but he was not. I assumed that whoever pulled the life support was going to make arrangements for the body.

Until the Coroner called… My belief is that we are all going to die and funerals are for the living. As the scriptures point out…   “Master, I will follow thee whithersoever thou shalt go.  And Jesus saith to him: The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air nests: but the son of man hath not where to lay his head. And another of his disciples said to him: Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. But Jesus said to him: Follow me, and let the dead bury their dead (Matt. 8: 19-22).”

We are all in eternity here and now, either separated from God now or in the presence of God now. We do God’s will now or become tormented without knowing why. Belief and faith is all anyone needs to live in the presence of God.

I believe my brother is in the presence of God just like he was here on earth, nothing changed except the body he was in. That dead body will eventually go back to the earth it came from. Nothing I can do will prevent that.