Note: If you're just finding this, look at the links on the right and start with the "Life is Precious" post and work your way up. If you've been here recently, I've just posted a couple, so you can pick up where you left off, if you're so inclined.
Driving home Thursday was strange. I was thinking about Marc. Where was he? Was he going to make it?
I was thinking about my mom. She already buried her husband. I can't even imagine what it would be like to bury a child.
I thought about my brother. He seemed strong, yet shaken. But he rarely showed emotion. But, it's a 'twin thing', I'm sure. I don't think anyone who isn't a twin can understand what he was going through.
I thought about my sister. Her daughter was Tim's new favorite. And, she was about to lose one of her older brothers. As she said to me, "I'm in this great place. It's called denial."
I thought about both of my nephews together. 22 and 13. I lost my dad when I was 30. It hurt a ton. I can't imagine what these guys are going to feel.
I thought about my wife and my daughter. I've barely spent enough time with them. Friends and family helping out to keep them company.
I thought about my self and told myself I shouldn't feel sorry for my self. Yes, I just had a kid. I wanted the attention for that. I wanted people to be able to enjoy her and the moment. But, that will come. This isn't about me, I told myself. It's about Tim. And we need to be strong for him. And for his family.
Then I thought about what I wanted to write -- because I was going to speak at his funeral. Or at least I was going to try and do it. As was my brother and Tim's youngest son. I had the thing written in my head on the drive home. It was so easy.
I got home, filled in Renee and friends that were here and tried to focus on Aidan and Erin for a bit. That helped. How could it not?
Then I wrote out my eulogy. Is that wrong? To write it before the person is officially dead? Well, that's what I did. And, I was so proud. It was the best thing I've ever written. The hard part was going to be actually reading it.
I was going to stay home from the hospital on Friday -- expecting a phone call with news that never came. I felt incredibly guilty all day. I should be there with my family. I should be here with my family. But, again, this isn't about me. My emotions, though, were all over the place. I've never felt anything like this. And, I hope I never feel it again.
Brendan, my nephew, stayed here Friday night. He and I drove up Saturday morning. Nothing changed. Nothing new. Marc was getting closer. He landed in Providence and was an hour away. He arrived. So young, so thin and so mature. And we are all so proud of what he is doing.
He went back to see his dad. Then we all had our last alone time with Tim. I had really already done it, so I went in, said a couple of prayers to him, told him I would miss him and that I loved him and went back to the waiting room.
After we all had gone, we just packed up and left. The organ donor team was next to do their thing -- and another reason to be proud of Tim. I also got a list of all the nurses who worked on my brother. I would need that to write the note to the hospital president later and let him know how incredible his staff is.
We had an appointment for the funeral home on Monday. So that meant the wake would be Wednesday and the funeral Thursday.
Somehow it went from being so emotional to so factual -- so business like. I had already started his obituary, too. I can't help it. Better to do it in a normal frame of mind, I guess.
The support we were all getting was incredible. Cousins came up to the hospital, as did friend of Tim and Sue's, as did a representative of his work. It was all so incredible. Particularly from his work. We knew he was good at what he did, but we learned so much more about Tim during this process. Sad in a way, but so rewarding in another.
All I remember thinking was, these next few days aren't going to be easy.
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