A Child at Home

I’ve been dreading even trying to put any of this into words. Mostly because I’m exhausted… in every way one can be exhausted. And I’ve been avoiding revisiting the emotions that writing about Jesse’s passing brings to light. I’ve been at peace, and a little numb, since the funeral. And I’ve needed some time to let my sore forehead muscles heal. Who knew your whole forehead feels like it’s bruised when you’ve been crying really, really hard for a long time? I’ve never really had to consider my forehead muscles before. They’re out of shape.

I’ve been staying in Jesse’s room since I’ve been here, snuggling up in his sheets and looking through his things. Today we went through all of his clothes and right now I’m wearing the t-shirt that still smells strongest of him. My mom suggested throwing everything in the wash before we separated it out, and I nearly lost it. I feel panicky at the thought of this smell fading away.

I’ve been in an alternate universe this past week, daydreaming of my life in Chicago… the life I knew before this new one, where I no longer have my big brother. My other life feels like a dream. And it doesn’t help that Sam is there now, taking his finals. I’ve been quite put out by everyone else going about things normally, while life for my family has seemed to come to such an abrupt halt. But this week has been full of tender mercies, and more than anything, I feel overwhelmingly grateful to my Heavenly Father.

Jesse’s funeral was beautiful. I cannot think of those who attended without becoming very emotional. There are no words to convey my gratitude to those of you who have reached out. In all honesty, I have been sitting here for the last 15 minutes trying to think of something I could say to do my feelings justice, and everything I think of seems completely futile. You have been a comfort and an anchor, and your compassion and service has sustained us.

My sisters and I were honored to sing for Jesse on Saturday and these are the lyrics to the song our family chose:

My Shepherd will supply my need
Jehovah is His name.
In pastures fresh He makes me feed
Beside the living stream.

He brings my wand’ring spirit back,
When I forsake His ways.
And leads me for His mercy’s sake
In paths of truth and grace.

When I walk through the shades of death
Thy presence is my stay.
One word of Thy supporting breath
Drives all my fears away.

Thy hand in sight of all my foes,
Doth still my table spread.
My cup with blessings overflows,
Thine oil anoints my head.

The sure provisions of my God
Attend me all my days.
O may Thy house be my abode,
And all my work be praise.

There would I find a settled rest,
While others go and come.
No more a stranger nor a guest,
But like a child at home.

Nothing brings me more comfort than thinking of Jesse in the arms of the Savior, no more a stranger nor a guest, but like a child at home.

I cannot express the gratitude I feel for my Father in Heaven, who, if we but look to Him, lovingly allows us to find hope and joy through our darkest hours. I’ve never felt so close to my family, and I’ve never felt closer to Him. Our eternal bonds have been tangible this week. How indebted I am to Him for allowing me to be born to my family. How thankful I am to Him for guiding me to Sam and entrusting us with our beautiful little Turkey Sub. How grateful I am for Jesse, and for the time I was given with him here on earth. I know he will be waiting for me, eager to teach me all that he has learned. I miss you, big brother. My heart aches every time I think of your sweet face. I am counting down the days until I get to be with you again, to know you, freed from earthly afflictions, as the man you were meant to be.