A 16-year-old girl, who didn’t know how to process the emotion flooding her upon hearing the news of her mother’s death, bolted from the hospital into the crisp darkness of the night. She found refuge under a pine tree, lay in the grass, and cried.
That girl was me. It was my brother, Eli, who found me under the tree and silently pulled me to my feet and into his arms and let me soak his shirt with my tears. That event bound us in a special way, and Eli became a great stabilizer in my life. He was my gentle giant, my rock-of-a-brother.
We lost Eli last week.
Through the days leading to Eli’s funeral, I discovered, unsurprisingly, he was a rock to many. As I listened to family and strangers tell anecdotes about him, I laughed. I cried. I marveled. But mostly, I laughed.
A common theme quickly emerged through these stories. Most of them centered on one of the following traits.
HUMOR
Eli loved to laugh. And he loved making others laugh. He was a master of the practical joke, the tall tale, and clowning around. I don’t recall ever seeing him down or without a cheerful word for friend and stranger alike. A mile-wide smile was his trademark.
The funny stories shared at his service brought laughter and kept sadness at bay. He lived his life with joy and brought joy into our lives. I can just imagine Eli’s pleasure because he still has us laughing.
Helping Hands
Eli was a big strapping, athletic, hard-working country boy. God blessed him with hands big enough to palm a basketball for a reason. At his service, one of his three daughters shared a beautiful acrostic she wrote about his H.A.N.D.S. His hands defined him in so many ways. He was always quick to lend a helping hand. She felt safest in his hands. He loved to hand-make stuff. He was always on hand when you needed him, and he sometimes got out-of-hand with the joking around.
Never a Bad Word to Say
I heard this phrase repeated time and again. “I never heard him say a bad word about anybody.” The line was usually followed by, “And I never heard anybody say a bad word about him.”
I had to pause and reflect on this one. And try as I might, I couldn’t recall a time Eli spoke in anger against anyone. Could the same be said about you by your family and closest friends? Not me.
Eli walked the walk. He was quiet and soft-spoken, but his life shouted a testament to Jesus.
Eli modeled the servant love Jesus demonstrated when He walked among us washing the feet of His disciples and feeding the multitude. Eli modeled acceptance and love for everyone—no matter their choices, just as Jesus refused to shun sinners. And Eli enhanced life by lifting up others through laughter.
His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! (Matthew 25:23).
Rest in Peace, Gentle Giant.
Such a beautiful tribute. I’m so sorry for your loss. I think of all the broken families. Siblings who don’t speak or see each other. What a true gift to have had a brother like Eli. I too have been so blessed. My thoughts and prayers are with you Candyce. May the One who has borne our grief and carried our sorrows comfort you now.
Ms. Candyce, my sincerest apologies for my tardiness in getting to your post this week ma’am, but please know my heartfelt condolences and sympathies go out to you and your brother’s family. Losing a brother, especially one as close as you two were, is a difficult thing. Knowing that it’s for just a moment in this life and that you’ll have eternity together is the only balm I know for a hurting soul. Praying God brings peace and comfort in the coming days, and that every smile and joyous memory of Mr. Eli’s life-well-lived fills your heart with great joy to displace the grief. God’s blessings sweet friend.
Your words bring comfort, J.D. Thank you so much.
So sorry for your loss, Candyce. Your brother must have been an amazing person—a blessing to many.
Thank you, Luann. He was a wonderful role model for sure.
His service portrayed him to a tee. He was a wonderful man and I feel blessed to have known him.
Thank you Gloria. I appreciate you stopping by
So sorry for your loss, Candyce. Your brother does sound like an amazing man and you were blessed to have someone like him in your life. I read an article once about writing our own obituary. The point of the piece was to reflect on how we would want to be remembered. What could we do now to make sure the goals we have would be accomplished and the good we wanted to do for others get done? It sounds like your brother finished his race with the prize.
Yes, Eli was a blessing to me and to many. I like the idea of thinking about our obituary. It reminds me of one of the seven principles of living from the book of the same name – begin with the end in mind.
Thanks, Barbara.
So sorry for your loss. Thanks for giving us a glimpse of your brother’s life and the role he played in yours.
Thank for your condolences, Barb. Thanks for reading.
Candyce, what a beautiful tribute to your brother. Praying for you and your family as you go through this grief journey.
There is glory on the other side!
Thank you Jackie. I know there is, and I know you’ve traveled the same journey. Thanks for your encouragement.
Beautifully written ❤️🙏🙏🙏❤️
Thank you Sheila. I hope you are finding some peace and hope after losing dear Jimmie. My sister-in-law is really struggling right now.
Candi this was a great testament in itself. Loved it.
Thank you, Ruthie. Writing has always been a good way for me to process grief. And it helps me know what I think. Eli’s life makes me stop and consider what life I’m modeling for others. Appreciate your comment!