It was always our dream to have more than one child.
I grew up in a home with sisters, my husband with all brothers. We wanted our kids to have each other, a friend to grow up with and share for life.
We tried for a few years to make Austin a big brother. Ideally, we wanted them a couple years apart. When that didn’t happen, I worried it wouldn’t, but the year he turned five was filled with milestones. Austin started kindergarten, we moved, and welcomed home another little boy.
Austin was thrilled to be a big brother. I can remember his proud and beaming face as he peeked down to meet Noah for the first time. It was love at first sight. And the feeling was mutual. They adored each other.
The age difference didn’t matter. Austin had a permanent shadow. A tag-a-long pal. And he really never complained. He truly was a wonderful big brother.
I joked constantly that I was going to make them share a room, as most nights they’d end up sleeping together.
We’d tuck them both into different beds in separate rooms, read stories and kiss them goodnight, but by morning we’d find them together in one or the other’s room. Sometimes in the same bed, sometimes on the floor beside each other.
Sure, there were moments of bickering and picking on one another, as brothers do.
Usually, it was one pestering the other, for no reason other than to get a reaction. Whenever they would push, complain, or tattle, I’d remind them to love each other.
“Someday,” I’d say, “all you all will have is each other.”
I’d grab one of each of their hands, forming a bridge in between them. “One day you’ll be all grown and old, mom and dad will be long gone, but you’ll have your brother as a friend forever.”
Those are such haunting words now.
Noah was eight when he lost his best friend, his big brother. Unfathomable grief, to think back on the pain he experienced then. We were so lost in the depths of our own sadness, I know we weren’t fully there for him as we should’ve been. I’m sure he heard, “Be strong for mom & dad,” much more than any little boy should have.
Though I know great loss, I can’t imagine his. I do not know what it is like to lose so much so young.
In an instant he went from baby to only child.
And my momma-heart hurts for all that he’s lost since. For the brother experiences he didn’t get to have. For the emptiness I’m sure he’s felt on so many moments. When he’d wanted someone to play with, only to remember he was alone. If he awoke in the middle of the night and realized he couldn’t crawl in bed with his brother bear. The first time he wanted to talk about girls. So many secrets he never got to share.
Last year, he outlived his brother, making it through his freshman year. We saw a marked changed in him, as the weight of that knowledge fell upon his broad shoulders, even though he never really said. But we could see the pain within those hazel eyes.
His brother would be all grown up now. A man really. Maybe even starting a life of his own.
I wonder what their relationship would be like at this point, if Austin were still with us.
Now, as I watch Noah play with his little cousins, his giant frame towering over them, their eyes sparkling when he enters the room, my heart aches again for knowing he’ll never get to be an uncle, at least not by blood. Noah lost his lifelong pal and in one swoop it crumbled his past and erased the future.
And if my mind wanders to the “What ifs?” of this world, I am sure his has and does as well.
Tim fills the gap as best a dad can. I’m grateful for what they have. They go and do in manly ways a mom can’t help.
My prayers for Noah now are to find deep friendships that will carry him through adulthood. To marry into a big family with built in brothers-in-law. Nobody could ever replace the bond these brothers shared but my hope is that as he grows he finds a piece of it in each friend he has.
There was no pattern to the pictures of Noah and Austin that I chose. They’re all treasured photos. Yet, as I proofed this post for a final time, I noticed a trend. In each, Austin is holding or touching his little brother. If I were to go back through, I’m sure that’s how I’d find most of their poses together.
Protector. Comforter. Friend. Austin was the truest sense of a big brother there ever was. And I have no doubt he continues to watch over his little bear from above.
In 2008, my world as I knew it changed forever, with the sudden loss of our 14-year-old son, Austin. The journey to my blog (and attitude toward life) was bumpy and tearful, beginning at a memorial blog for my son. I later chose to take another path, challenging myself to find the JOY in every day, despite the sadness I still felt. I love and miss him daily but I’m living my life to honor him – and celebrating every moment it brings. My goal…to find and share the joy in every day. You can find me at Joyful Challenge
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