Saying good-bye

We are home now. Just for a few days. Our trip to Oregon seemed to last an eternity and just a few hours all at the same time. The funeral was nice. And I am glad it is over. I had to speak. It was the hardest talk I have ever had to give. I wrote it out first, to get the feel of it, to see what I really wanted to say. And I thought I should record it somewhere, so when my memories grow dim I will have them here. The memories that stood out to me when my loss was so fresh. Here it is.

I have been struggling so much to know what to say today. To express how I feel about my brother, to put into words the last 33 years in a way that would do my brother justice. I asked Jeff about it, over and over. He asked what I wanted to say. Putting it that way makes it sound so simple. Maybe it is. So, what I want to say is how sad I am. Sad that Michael's life was not full of happiness, that he struggled. Sad that living a life without him seems so lonely. But what I would want him to know is that having him in my life brought me happiness. For so many reasons. I would like to share a few of those with you today. I will start at the beginning with something my son Jeffrey wrote about his Uncle Mike.

"I want to tell you a story of how Mike became a Bowman. It was a day of happiness. Gail and Pete went to the doctor. They were so sad when the doctor said, 'you can't have a baby,' so they went home. So the next day they got a call from a mom who said, 'I can't take care of my baby.' So she said, 'Would you like him?' And so Gail and Pete said, 'okay.' So that mom came and said, 'Here you go, take care of him.' She left and so Pete and Gail and Erin were happy. The next day they went to the store to get supplies for Mike so Erin was playing with Mike in the cart. What Mike did for me was really important as an uncle and so I want to tell you Mike will always be in our hearts no matter what. He is a very good man. So that's the story of how Mike became a Bowman."

On November 4, 1977 Michael was born. Jeffrey told the story well. That same day my mom and dad and I had a family picture taken. My mom and I knew that someone was missing. I would wake up from my naps asking where my baby brother was. My prayer at night would ask Heavenly Father to please send my brother NOW. And 5 months later, he did.
My earliest memory is the day Michael was sealed to us in the temple. We were far from home in a place that seemed very strange to a 4 year old girl. I remember my mom coming into the nursery where we were, dressed all in white. I thought she looked beautiful. I tugged on her dress and she knelt next to me. I asked why we were there. She said we were there to make Michael ours forever. And that was enough for me. Any place that would make my brother mine forever was special and I knew that. I didn't know then how important that would be to me one day. Today.

One of the best things about Michael is that he always made me feel loved. When we were young my grandpa had to give a talk in church. He asked Michael and I what we thought the best thing was that Heavenly Father had given us. Michael said the best thing was his sister. And I have always felt that way. He made me feel that way. He was there for every important event in my life. Every graduation, every baby, every blessing. He was at the hospital with me the entire 14 hours I was in labor with my first baby, waiting and worrying. He was there for birthdays and holidays and most Sunday's. I knew he loved me.

And I loved him. When Michael was 7 or 8 there was a bully that liked to pick on him. He was a scrawny little guy back then and made an easy target. We spent every day of our summers at the neighborhood pool down the street. Michael had walked ahead of me one day and when I caught up to him the bully had chased him into the tennis courts and had him cornered. I ran in and punched that boy in the stomach as hard as I could. He ran home crying. It is still one of my proudest moments. I wish I could have been there for all those moments in his life, to protect him, make him feel loved.

As I look back, my entire childhood is full of my brother. I remember staying up on Christmas Eve, talking late into the night. I remember trips to the beach, searching for sand dollars. I remember camping at Ft. Stevens with our cousins. I remember going to EFY when we were teenagers. Everyone thought he was my older brother. I remember playing in our backyard pool with my barbies and his GI Joe guys. There was many a wedding. I remember the first day of school with our brand new jeans and backpacks. I remember playing marco polo in the pool until dark. I remember jumping on our trampoline with the sprinkler on underneath and having sleepovers on it at night. So many memories.

Looking through all the photos of our childhood, it's hard to believe that blond little boy is the man I said good-bye to today. His appearance has changed a bit over the years. A couple years ago Michael was at our house for Halloween. We had taken the kids around the block and Michael stayed on the porch to pass out candy. Several neighbors that we passed commented on how great my brothers costume was. Michael didn't have a costume on so we were puzzled. Another neighbor came by and said how great my brother looked, just exactly like the uni-bomber. With his long beard and hooded sweatshirt, there was a good resemblance. We all laughed. The next time we saw him his beard was much shorter.

But that exterior did not reflect who he really was. He was kind and sensitive and full of compassion. Like Jeffrey said, he was a good man. I think the final lesson my brothers life has taught me is one of faith. During this Easter season I cannot help but feel hope that I will be with Michael again. I found this quote from the first presidency that reaffirms that hope:
"Among the most cherished thoughts and writings in this world is the divine statement of truth: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." This precious Son, our Lord and Savior, atoned for the sins of all mankind. That memorable night in Gethsemane His suffering was so great, His anguish so consuming that He pleaded, "Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt." Later, on the cruel cross, He died that we might live, and live everlastingly. Resurrection morning was preceded by pain, by suffering in accordance with the divine plan of God. Before Easter, there had to be a cross. The world has witnessed no greater gift, nor has it known more lasting love. The message of Easter is that the Savior lives! And because He lives all shall indeed live again. This knowledge provides the peace for loved ones of those who have passed on, "Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives: 'I know that my Redeemer lives!'"

In the midst of all this sadness there is hope. Hope that we can be together again. Faith that the plan of salvation is real. I have to believe that. To believe that a merciful Heavenly Father that bound us for eternity will honor that promise. Believe that my brother is in a place where his body can't hold his spirit back any longer. Believe that the Savior made that possible. In John 14:27 the Savior promises, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." I feel that peace. I hope Michael has found it now too. That is my prayer.