The candle’s glow casts shadows throughout the room, an unwelcome reminder of the day’s dreadful news. The solitary place setting, plate/silver/napkin/glass, remained at the end of the table awaiting his arrival. The words “never again” rang through my mind over and over again ... Never again would he grace my Thanksgiving table. The gold-rimmed water glass could never sufficiently hold the tears shed this day. 

It was 23 years ago, on the day after Thanksgiving, I found my brother lying face down on the bed in his apartment, an apparent heart attack. His death, abrupt and sudden, changed me in ways others hadn’t. 

I have wisdom enough to know it is not for me to question God’s ways. It is sufficient for me to acknowledge and accept the sovereignty of His love mercy and grace.

I do admit, it was in painful silence that my heart grieved, grasped to understand and accept the reality of change, of death, of a life stolen from me ... again. ...