8 Years Ago

8 years ago today, my brother, David Allen Hollowell, died at the age of 18 from cancer complications. He was a great young man with lots of potential. There are so many things about his life that I wish I could have seen played out over the years since he died, but God had other plans. One of my few good memories of the day he died was when my young cousin Ethan said to his mom, "David gets to worship with Jesus today." He died early on a Sunday morning before the sun had come up. I didn't sleep at all during the night because I stayed up talking with one of David's best friends discussing faith, life, and how things would be different when David was gone. I was supposed to be on a rotation with my parents to stay up with David, who hadn't really been awake in more than 24 hours. I watched his oxygen saturation steadily go down over a few hours. Eventually my parents woke up and they called the hospice nurse to let her know how low his numbers were. Some family and friends had been called to let them know how he was and they came and left, and came again. It was so hard seeing him die in need of oxygen and his heart pumping so hard to help, but it just ran out of steam.

There were some very important people there that day. Trent Futral, who stayed up with me so my parents could sleep and talked with me about David, his impact on his life, and the legacy he would be leaving behind. Stephanie Wilson (Pool) was there to hide my face in her shoulder as they took my brother out of the house to the funeral home. My best friend, Kara Van Dine drove in with my now husband, Jeff as soon as they heard. Jeff even got pulled over for speeding if you can believe it. When they got there, I just laid down to rest in a living room chair and was about to fall asleep. My 2nd mom from high school asked if I needed any food, and I gave her 2-3 dishes that I was dying to eat, since I was tired of eating Brookshire's fried chicken. I refuse to eat fried chicken with bones in it from any grocery store to this day. We literally received 4-5 boxes in 1 day. My aunt, uncle, and cousins came.

In the weeks leading up to and following David's death, there were so many people who were instrumental in helping us cope with the loss. David was on the area youth counsel (CYF-C) and they had gone to a Mercy Me concert and bought a shirt for David that they later brought to the hospital. I wore that shirt just 2 months ago and thought of them and their generosity towards their brother.

In some ways it seems like it was a lifetime ago because so much has happened since he died, but to think that it was only 8 years ago feels like maybe I missed something important. My parents have been amazing and have grieved well. I'm not sure I grieved well because I hate crying. I cry very easily, but I dislike it so much I fight it with every fiber of my being most days. When I do allow myself to cry, I'll just cry for a long time, like tonight, which is why I got up to blog about it. I don't mind talking about David and who he was and that he died, leaving me as an only child. I usually tell people that the one thing that always upsets me and makes me cry is that when we were younger, our parents would tell us we had to get along because when we got older, we'd only have each other to lean on when our parents died. Now I only have my husband. It makes me cry every time, no matter what. Our children will know who is was and that he's their uncle. We still have some of his things and my mom gave me a picture of us when we were little that's on our fridge, and there's a picture of him and my dad on prom night hanging on the wall. They get told it's Uncle David. I don't think they understand, but they will someday.

I guess I should go get some sleep on the off-chance that I have a baby in the next 24 hours.

RIP David Allen Hollowell

July 18, 1985-August 3, 2003