It dawned on me this morning when I woke up rather abruptly from a very vivid dream that I don’t think I’ve dreamed about Nathan like that before now. I’ve had dreams about him and replayed memories in my mind’s eye of times with him, but last night’s dream was different. It was a real-time, conversation type of dream.

I’ve been rereading “New Moon” (in anticipation of the movie in November!), so perhaps my sub-conscious decided it, too, needed a Bella-esque sleep drama. Maybe it’s because my life is so stressful right now … who knows.

The details are sketchy, but I remember being utterly stunned when I saw him. He had a pensive look on his face but was pleased to see me. I wasn’t alone, though I don’t remember who else was with us. In my selfish unconscious, he spoke only to me.

He sat in an arm chair in a living room setting that was nothing like any house I recognized. I bombarded him with questions to be sure I wasn’t hallucinating, and I determined that he was actually there, in a tangible sense. At one point, he looked off in the distance and said, “So, thanks for what you’re doing, and thanks for getting my computer up and running again.” (Hey, it’s a dream, so asinine comments are allowed, I suppose.) I shrugged off his superficial comment and mumbled something about one monitor not working and how I had rigged my old laptop with the broken screen to another monitor so it was usable again. He looked at me and smiled approvingly. That’s when I broke down.

I crumbled onto the floor, wailing and sobbing. I asked him if he knew how much we missed him and how very, very hard this is on me and how much I need him. He looked at me again, this time with so much compassion in his eyes, the kind of look that I can only remember once or twice seeing in real life. He just said, “I know.”

Then, the conversation switched to something ridiculous about how to keep the boys or anyone else from seeing him, because it would be too confusing. You see, he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to stay. If it wasn’t permanently (and even if it was), how could we even begin to explain to people?! I suggested that he change into another avatar (creative license in dreamland again, remember?), and he thought this was a brilliant idea, thank you very much.

That’s about all I remember. It struck me how – in the book – Bella is obsessed with hearing Edward’s voice in her head … during my dream, I don’t remember being overcome by the sound of his voice, but now that I’m awake again, I miss it already.

We’ve gotten a lot of much-needed rain this week! On the way back from a day trip to Dallas for work, I was sitting in the back seat of the company car and watching the dark clouds through the window. My colleagues were chatting in the front seat, and I just tuned them out for a bit and watched the rain.

It was raining heavy, and the drops streaked across the window from side to side. It reminded me of a road trip game that Nathan and I used to play. We would pick a droplet of rain on one side of the window and watch it “race” the other drops to the edge of the door. Watching the raindrops like this is mesmerizing. If you’ve never tried it, you should! (Not while driving, of course … it’s a passenger game.) Sometimes the drops merge and become bigger, faster drops. Sometimes the wind hits it just right, and the drop splatters into smaller drops – bummer. I always enjoyed when the drop would drift into a thin stream of water left behind from another drop, because it would shoot super-fast through the channel like a slide, and that drop was sure to win the race!

I know that Nathan and I did our share of fighting and bickering in the car, much like the boys do now. It’s interesting to me, though, that the things I find myself remembering (without even trying – just memories that pop into my head) are silly little inconsequential games like raindrop races, moon chasing and I-spying license plates. I ache with longing for him.

Tonight, I introduced the older three boys to one of Nathan & my favorite past times as kids on nighttime car rides – moon chasing!

To my great delight, they loved it! The gist is quite simple: you observe the moon through the car windows and pretend like you are chasing, racing or running from it (depending on which direction you are driving). Tonight was a full (or nearly-full) moon, which made it fun, plus there was a planet (Venus or Jupiter? We weren’t sure.) off to the side of the moon, for added viewing pleasure.

We started out facing it head-on, then it was beside us for a little while, then it was behind us. It’s especially cool when there is a harvest moon — you know, the gigantic orange one just on the horizon that looks SO huge, you could almost drive straight into it?

Sharing this childhood fun with the boys and talking about Nathan made me smile, which is something I’ve needed all day. It’s been a rough couple of days, emotionally speaking. The boys are boys; nothing really newsworthy to report there. School has started, and we’re getting used to a new routine, but things are trucking along ok. Prayers, in general, are always appreciated.

It’s a minute past midnight, and I really should be asleep. Eight hours from now, I will regret staying up to write. I just can’t get my mind to settle down …

Late this evening, we got word from the Magnolia PD chief that the medical examiner’s office has officially ruled my brother’s death Accidental. We, of course, have known all along these past seven months that he would never have done this purposely, but having our knowledge affirmed by the earthly powers that be is a huge relief.

I haven’t shared much about this, and it isn’t the sort of thing that I would normally Tweet about, post on Facebook or mention in the breakroom, but if you’re taking the time to read my blog, then you must give a darn and might actually want to hear about it.  *smiles appreciatively … so I shall continue (disclaimer: some potentially disturbing details forthcoming).

The police reports and subsequent investigation (a must-do with a gunshot fatality) confirmed without a shadow of a doubt that somehow, some way, the gun fell, discharged when it hit the floor, shot him in the chest and the bullet lodged into the ceiling. I’ve said before and I’ll say it again that it’s a mixed blessing that he didn’t die immediately. He had the wherewithal to call 911 and the presence of mind to speak calmly and shield his sons from being too traumatized. Every which way I replay that night in my mind’s eye, I can see God’s faithful hand intertwined throughout the details.

The medical examiner (ME) questions any sort of shooting death, naturally. However, when we got wind that the ME was wavering on the conclusiveness of whether or not this was accidental, I was furious. That big sister who once gave a harsh talking-to on the school bus to a bully who was picking on my little brother reared her head, and I felt very protective of Nathan’s reputation – in life and in death.

I thought to myself (and mumbled aloud, I will admit): How dare they question the incontrovertible evidence (sorry, Dumbledore – I had to steal that phrase), not to mention the totally non-suicidal mindset of the brother I’ve known for as long as I can remember? He was exquisitely happy – in love ad nauseum and anxious to get married this fall. He had a good job that he enjoyed and excelled at, not to mention those two boys he loved more than anything on the planet. He had bad days, like we all do, but he loved his life. One of the greatest joys I’ve received in recent days was discovering his Twitter account and reading his posts over the months about how happy he was.

First and foremost, it is reassuring to know that his good name will not be sullied by a twit ME who can’t tell the difference between a shot wound from a gun that has been dropped and one that was fired purposely. Sheesh, I don’t even watch CSI and I think I know that much!

Practically speaking, having this official news definitely helps us to bring closure to his estate (such as it were). His final paycheck, life insurance, etc. have been sitting in limbo all this time, because we could not access any of it without the official death certificate.

None of those things are as important, however, than knowing that someday when the boys are older, we can share with them the absolutely indisputable story of how their Daddy died. There will always be questions for which we have no answers, but this we do know – it was an accident.

My sister-in-law lost her sister yesterday. She had a blood clot in her brain and died very suddenly. It’s so sad.

I never met her, but just the raw achy feeling of losing a sibling … I don’t like reopening that wound. I’m not sure that band-aid will ever be any easier to rip off.

I just hope that maybe by having gone through it myself, I’ll be able to help others in their faith journey.

Dear Nathan,

Six months ago today, things were plugging along – business as usual. I had a lunch meeting with a colleague to plan Staff Council tasks for the spring semester, and Lane was working noon-8pm that day. It was a Friday, and a friend had invited Jeremy over to spend the night. It was his first sleepover, in fact. I got home from work and called the mom to work out the details. The boys and I had a quick dinner, and then I took Jeremy over to his friend’s house.

Ryan was upset about Jeremy leaving, but Aidan was glad to have the Xbox all to himself for the evening. Ryan was still fussing when Lane got home. Within just a few minutes of Lane walking in the door, I got a frantic phone call from my mom saying that you’d been shot at your home but she didn’t have any other details.

The next few hours were a blurry flurry of activity. I called Jeremy’s friend’s house again to let the mom know that I’d have to come pick him up, and instead, she offered for Aidan to spend the night, also. What a relief! Of course, that made Ryan even more upset now that both brothers were leaving. I remember sitting at the gas station while Lane filled the car, and I was fighting back tears as my mind swarmed with scenarios. Ryan was crying in the backseat, and Aidan reached over to take his hand and said firmly: “Look! Uncle Nathan is hurt. Let’s pray.” And he led his little brother in a precious prayer of healing for you.

Ryan eventually fell asleep on the long drive while we listened to praise music and I cried and prayed and cried and prayed some more. I clutched my cell phone in my hand and waited for updates. I remember the longest stretch of road during the longest period of silence. I think we were somewhere between College Station and Navasota, at that point. In the back of my mind, I think I knew, but I didn’t want to believe it.

Finally, I got through to Daddy, who had gotten to the hospital before anyone else. He didn’t have to tell me, though he finally did. I could tell by his voice, the way he was avoiding my questions. Those who were at the hospital had been given strict orders not to tell anyone who was driving that you had died, for obvious reasons. I remember shaking in my seat and staring out into the black night, dumbfounded. Lane just echoed, “No no no no no no no …” and kept on driving with his fists clenched around the steering wheel.

Six months ago today, things changed.

—

I know that this letter to you is only pretend, and even if I could somehow send it to you, I wouldn’t. The Bible says clearly that there is no pain, no grief, no suffering in Heaven (Revelation 21:4). To know how much we suffered that night – and continue to mourn – would surely cause you pain, and you are too busy setting up God’s wifi to the cosmos or playing Guitar Hero with the angelic choir to worry about anything else. (Ok, so God doesn’t need wifi, and I doubt any of the GH tracks made it onto God’s ipod … but sometimes it makes me smile to imagine what you might be doing in Heaven.)

I love you. I miss you.

Someone at work yesterday was talking about “pill bugs” getting into her house. I’ve heard the little critters called by several names, including doodle bugs, but we always called them rollie pollies.

Even though my friend was annoyed by the bugs in her house, I had to smile as I thought back to the days when Nathan and I would squat on the sidewalk and observe the rollie pollies. It was always a challenge to see if you could get one to crawl on your finger or hand without startling it into its defensive ball. Sometimes, we would tear off a blade of grass to coax it closer, then hold the grass and let it climb onto our hands. I remember how it tickled when one would walk up my arm.

It’s just a silly little bug, and it’s been decades since I’ve played with one, but thinking about it makes me miss Nathan so very much.

Today is a weird day. I’m not in denial; I know that Nathan is gone, and I won’t see him for the rest of my earthly existence. It’s just that I feel like I need to pick up the phone right now and give him a buzz. We haven’t talked in such a long while, and I need to catch up with him. I want to pick on him for not calling me in ages.

… I want to tell him about our garden and listen to his disbelief as I tell him that I, of all people, have managed to keep plants alive! (Lane gets all the credit for keeping the garden thriving, really, but I can still hear Nathan ribbing me for killing a poor cactus in my college days.)

…  I want to explain to him in geekish detail about the cool stuff I’ve made using Gimp and how much I enjoy my virtual store – and know that he’d think it’s cool, too!

… I want to hear him talking about wedding plans so that I can poke fun at him for turning into a mushy, gushy, romantic sap. Then, I want to tell him how much I love Kristen and how thrilled I am to have her as a sister-in-law-to-be.

Then, it hits me: I’ll never have a sister-in-law – not officially, at least. (She’s already and always in my heart.) There isn’t going to be a wedding. The groom is gone. My brother is gone.

As much as I miss Nathan, my heart breaks in these moments for the many other people whose lives were dramatically and permanently altered by his death. I pray that someday his fiancé will find love and joy again and live a long, happy life with a man of her dreams.

I  think about his job and co-workers. I’ve heard stories of how much they relied on his expertise. He would often get calls in the middle of the night to fix this-or-that server such-and-such. His death means a very tangible loss to the company.