untitled two.

It seems as though this two part chronicle on my Matthew may turn into a bit more. As I sit to write about him and this incident, much more emerges than I expect. So I’m just gonna go with it, and I apologize in advance for what may partially be word vomit.

This somewhat unpleasant story is not written with the intent to make you disconsolate or to make you feel uncomfortable. And indeed, looking for sympathy I am not. But because possibly, if you have ever experienced a deep loss or heaven forbid encounter something comparable forthcoming, hopefully this will help make some sense of it. So… I have this sixth sense. Unfortunately, I do not see dead people. I kind of wish that’s what it was, because I think that would be really cool. But I do however; have an inexplicable ability to tap into premonitions. Renderings, intuitions, gut feelings, omens, whatever you may call them. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I can never escape these hunches that periodically rest upon this soul. In due time I learned to stop trying to depress this ability, and instead I embrace it. I can confidently tell you that I felt as if God was preparing me for this loss for a long time. Matt passed in October of 2005, and it was in the fall of 2004 I began to feel as if I might encounter a great sadness within my family. For whatever reason I sensed that my family was going to experience some tragedy or crisis involving one of my brothers. As strange and morbid as that sounds it was one of my unexplainable premonitions. So, if that was what was to come, I began to pray for peace, guidance, and understanding. I believe I was able to handle Matt’s death with much more constancy seeing that my heart was prepared for such a befalling.

On this particular day I have a lingering sense of impending doom that I just can not shake. Late in the afternoon I receive a phone call from Scott W (my ex) while at my office. A police officer just left the house. He was asking me about your brother Matt. He asked if I had seen him or talked to him lately and then if I knew about him having any involvement with drugs? The first thought to drift thru my mind is, oh Matthew, what have you gotten into this time? You see, my family had already gone thru many years of drug and alcohol addictions, arrests, mental illness, and glaciers of rebellious behavior with Matt. So regrettably, I make the assumption he is up to no good. I hang up with Scott W and call my dad at his office. I explain to him what Scott W had told me about the cop dropping by. I should inform you that we had not been able to get a hold of Matt by phone for several days. We planned a birthday dinner for him and my brother Scott B the week prior, but he did not show. No one thought too much of it at first because this was normal behavior for Matt. He regularly just appeared and disappeared as he felt. Within an hour I receive a phone call back from my dad. He too had been visited by the police at his work. I quickly begin to understand that this might be something greater than I initially suspected. Police officers don’t just spend all day joyriding through the city, visiting family members individually trying to track someone down for delight.

I unsuccessfully shake the feeling of worry, finish up with work, and head to a dance rehearsal. Scott W and I make plans for a late dinner out. I pull up to the house and leave the car running. I figure I would just run in and grab Scott W, but he meets me outside at the door. Immediately I become aware of the police car parked on the street. The look on his face is hesitant. There is a police man inside with Kyle (a pastor from our church) and your parents. “They found a body, and they think it might be your brother’s.” These words haunt me. I knew this. I knew this moment was coming. I immediately go into caretaker mode. Has anyone told Scott B (my oldest brother)? No? I have to tell him. I dial my brother. I tell him. What? He manages to mumble. Just come over, I tell him. We walk inside. The room is surprisingly calm, but very serious. The facts. A body has been found in a Juarez, Mexico. The description matches Matt’s but his identity can not be confirmed at this time. The detective conveys to my parents they are 98% sure it is him. As to not leave much interval for false hope. Sleep was not an option on this night.

The media was quick to snatch a hold of the story. I don’t suppose I will ever be able to forget the image of my brother’s body rested in a body bag on a stretcher flashing on the screen as it is permanently etched into my minds eye. Never imagined it could be painful to watch an episode of CSI, but as of late, I hate shows like that. The next day we get confirmation that the body found was Matthew’s. As we thought things couldn’t possibly be any more unsettling, we are informed that the authorities in Juarez will not release the body to us unless we travel to Mexico to fly him back ourselves. After much negotiation and havoc between borders they agree to release Matt. Once the nightmare of fighting to have him back home for a funeral was over, there was the incessant flow of visitors to the house, funeral arrangements, condolences, etc. I go numb. I go into autopilot. You dress because you have to wear clothes. You eat because there’s food, everywhere from all of the visitors. I think I washed my hair like once that week… I listen to mom cry herself into a restless sleep every evening.

After the initial chaos of that first week slowed, we learned a bit more of the particulars. Matt had packed up everything he owned into his truck and took off. Apparently spent some time in El Paso and then Juarez. His truck along with all of his belongings never surfaced. Autopsy results confirmed the cause of death was from contusions to the thoracic area. Among the bruising he suffered a black eye, and multiple broken bones and cuts. There was also the presence of drugs in his system. We can only assume that he was involved in a fight, or was hit by a car that threw him over into the ravine. Either way, someone left him for dead. This should enrage me. But oddly, it doesn’t. I know my God is just. Revenge is not mine to seek. If foul play was implicated, then I pray for the souls involved with the death of my brother. I desire that they too might one day know the God that I cherish, that forgives, and we should meet in eternity one day.

It’s wonderful the way someone’s life can unfold long after they are gone. For many individuals’ popularity or greatness, pursues them in death more so than in life. This was the case with my brother. One of my favorite movies, Big Fish quotes, “That was my father's final joke, I guess. A man tells his stories so many times that he becomes the stories. They live on after him. And in that way he becomes immortal. “My brother has been made immortal by the stories of his friends and family. And by the fingerprints he left behind on hearts. My spirit is warmed by these stories, which are brought forth from others. I have come to find that he had intense impact on many. His life’s purposes fulfilled, thru the people he influenced, unknown to him I am sure. I now can see how something extraordinary can emerge from tragedy. How God can use transgression for purpose and something ultimately greater. Currently, I am reading, The Shack. This book addresses exactly that. “Who wants to worship a God who can be fully comprehended, eh? Not much mystery in that. There are millions of reasons to allow pain and hurt and suffering rather than to eradicate them, but most of these reasons can only be understood within each person’s story. I am not evil. You are the ones who embrace fear and pain and power and rights so readily in your relationships. But your choices are not stronger than my purposes, and I will use every choice you make for the ultimate good and the most loving outcome. Mack, if anything matters than everything matters. Because you are important, everything you do is important. Every time you forgive, the universe changes; every time you reach out and touch a heart or a life, the world changes; with every kindness and service, seen or unseen, my purposes are accomplished and nothing will ever be the same again”

I recollect Scott B inquiring if I think Matt is still near, or if I think he still implicated within our lives. Absolutely, I replied. He’s not gone. During one of my marathons last December, I heard his voice from behind cheering me on just as I was about ready to slow my pace. I felt a slight sensation as if someone had placed their hand upon my back and was gently helping me on my way with a slight shove forward. I know it was Matt. Its experiences like that that let me know his soul is still lively. When I was going through a tough time coping with the remnants of divorce, I came across Matthew chapter five while reading my bible. Matthew chapter five is one of two passages of scripture which comprise the beatitudes. (Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth, etc…) Matthew 5:8-12 found me wanting. How it reminded me of my brother. And it addressed me exactly were I was standing. "You're blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.” I cling tight to this truth. So much so, that I recently had Matthew five tattooed on my wrist. A constant reminder of this divine scripture and my dear brother, and well, I just happen to like scripted tattoos as well...

“When Matt’s life ended, the world stopped, but my life had finally begun.” Because of Matt’s death, I was able to gain perspective. I see this life in such a different light than how I use to. So temporary it is. When you grasp an inkling of the idea that you could be on this earth ultimately a measly one hundred years, and then eternity begins, your worldview just might change. I realize now, there is nothing to fear. Not even fear! Great freedom comes when you acknowledge this truth and embrace people and life itself. “My life seems like it has been so long and so short at the same time. People speak of a will to live. They rarely speak of a will to die. Because people are afraid of death. Death is dark and unknown and frightening. But not for me. It is not the end." -- Garth Stein