It's another beautiful day in Charleston, South Carolina. It's sunny, ninety-two degrees and there is a breeze (thanks be to God!) that wicks away some of the humidity. I took Elleri to school this morning and while listening to the radio, I heard a song. The Band Perry, 'If I Die Young.' I'll save everyone a lot of time by just posting a few lines..
"Lord make me a rainbow I'll shine down on my mother
She knows I'm safe with you and she stands under my colors
Oh and life ain't always what you think it ought to be
No it ain't even grey but she buries her baby
The sharp knife of a short life
Well I've had just enough time
If I die young burry me satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
The sharp knife of a short life
Well, I have just enough time"
She knows I'm safe with you and she stands under my colors
Oh and life ain't always what you think it ought to be
No it ain't even grey but she buries her baby
The sharp knife of a short life
Well I've had just enough time
If I die young burry me satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
The sharp knife of a short life
Well, I have just enough time"
Five years ago this weekend, I lost someone I love very much. A brother in almost every sense of the word, Brandon Lee Hubbert was a force to be reckoned with. With a ridiculous silver jacket and shoes he'd beat on you for scuffing, he was handsome and head-strong. He was smart and knew just what to say to tick you off or make you smile. Never one to be a fly on the wall, he loved being the center of attention. He fought with his dad unlike any two men have ever fought before, but loved him fiercely. He was his mama's boy and was always on hand to give her a squeeze when she was feeling a little bit discouraged. He had painfully blue eyes and could sucker any girl into darn near anything. He loved his high school sweetheart so incredibly much and would protect her from any harm that ever came her way. He was a best friend, honest and true. One who would say it like it was, regardless of what you wanted to hear. He was funny! So very funny and seemingly always in trouble with someone. He was an athlete. A magnificent runner and basketball player, and you could usually find him on the courts in housing playing a little ball before dinner. He drove really fast. He loved his dog. His drink of choice was Captain and Coke.. ew. He never let his hair get too long because he didn't like the little flip that his curls would do around his forehead and ears. He had the cutest ears. He loved professional sports and would smack anyone who ever talked down about any of his beloved Detroit teams. He had a really cute butt and he was painfully ticklish. He was a military brat and moved around a lot, but called Kodiak home (second, sometimes, to Detroit.) and his friends were his family. He got in trouble for jumping his dad's red Jeep Wrangler over by Northstar Elementary. (Little did dad know, I was the instigator of this whole ordeal!) He listened to Bone Thugs 'n Harmony. He secretly listened to Big and Rich. He drove his dad's mustang more than he was actually allowed to. He got into some trouble along the way and paid a great deal for all of it. He was a son. He was a friend. He was a husband. He would have been a father.
Five years ago this weekend, the hummingbirds stopped coming to mom and dad's house. Ruby-throated hummingbirds are abundant in Northern Michigan and they just.. stopped coming.
Five years ago this weekend, I lost someone I love very much. I was in class all morning, but my phone was blowing up with calls from Bryce. He wasn't leaving messages, until the thirteenth call. He said, "Kathryn. It's Bryce. Call me back. It's important." He knew my schedule, so for him to be calling this much and leaving such a somber message, I knew in my stomach something was wrong. I took a moment and called him back. He told me to go to a place where I could sit down and no one would hear me scream. Crossing the street between SWAHA and Cedar Chiropractic, I heard myself sobbing. He explained to me what had happened. I don't really remember much of that day. I know I somehow made it from the middle of the road to V's office. Doc gave me a ride home to the empty house. I crawled through the front door and went straight for Sarah's happy hippo, Carson.
Between trying to understand things myself and trying to book a ticket to Michigan, I made the phone calls. Nobody likes to be the Grim Reaper, but people needed to know. Eugene was the first person. Ty, Kelly, Michella, Joe, Paul.. And then finally, I called B's parents.
I called my mom and told her what had happened. I told her that I needed to get on a plane immediately and that I couldn't do it without her help. I was a student and could in no way afford the thousand dollar plane ticket, next day, from Utah to Michigan. But I knew I had to be there. She said that she'd talk it over with my dad and hung up the phone.. Only to call me back in less than a minute, crying. I was on the plane the following morning. Joe, Joe and Eugene picked me up from the airport and, after getting lost and almost crossing over into Canada, we made it to the house. I thought I was going to pass out. Joe and Eugene literally carried me into the garage, up the stairs and to mom and dad. We hugged and cried. I don't think that any of us slept that night. The funeral came and went, wake at the house in the garage with lots of food and even more alcohol. Somehow, without ever having heard the song before, everyone in the room knew the lyrics to 'Live This Life' by Big and Rich. We sang and ate. Laughed and cried. Danced and held each other.
In the midst of all of the sadness, Brandon's son was born on August 16th. He was healthy and looked like his daddy from the second he entered the world. His eyes and eyebrows, his nose and lips, his ears and even his feet. His daddy's boy. I held him through the better portion of the funeral and I swear it was B's way of putting a baby-shaped band-aid on my wounded heart.
Most of the trip is recalled as though I didn't live it. It is in the form of film footage, like it was an out-of-body experience. I can remember every single moment of the nine days I spent in Michigan. Nine days. I was only supposed to be there for four, but Joe and I missed our flight. When we got home, we knew it was another message from Brandon. His mom and dad weren't ready to be alone yet. We went to the cabin. We spent nights talking and looking at videos. I confessed to the whole 'Jeep' situation. And on a beautiful Upper Peninsula day in August, a baby was baptized. Jaden James Hubbert was handed to myself and Ryan Kabke as we were called forward as Godparents. It was easily the proudest moment of my life thus far. Sadly, I've dropped that ball completely. I pray that Brandon will help guide me to making things right again.
Five years ago this weekend, the hummingbirds stopped coming. But, on that sunny Upper Peninsula day, in the backyard of a house, around friends and family, with a beautiful baby in my arms, I saw the hummingbirds. Two of them. Two little beacons of peace and hope, fluttering about by the birdhouse that B made for his mom. I know he sent them to us, to me. They were his little way of letting me know that he was alright, that everything would be as it should be in time, that no matter where I was, he'd find me. Brandon was a best friend, honest and true. He kept his word.
Five years ago this weekend, I lost someone I love very much. However, I gained a few things. I gained a mom and dad who were in desperate need of a child.. I pray that my presence and that of the others who were able to come up served as a miniscule buffer for them. I gained a connection with people that will never be forgotten. Though I don't speak with everyone often, nothing in the world will ever minimize the intensity that we experienced with one another. I gained a Godson. The most beautiful creature to ever walk this planet, he is his father's boy. And I love him. I also gained a series of days, August 14th-16th of every year, that stop me dead in my tracks and force me to contemplate who I am, where I am and what I am going to do about it. These few days serve as a slap upside the head for me. They shake me and give me no other option than to truly evaluate myself. I generally call them my 'dark days.' I used to spend them alone, communicating those who played such an integral part in this experience, and remembering my friend. Last year, I was en route to the biggest adventure of my life. Being on an airplane is meditation for me, so on August 14th, 2009 I spent hours in my head, thinking of B and how his life and death have driven me to do things beyond my wildest imagination. This year, I will be on Daniel Island, South Carolina listening to the man whose lyrics soothe me in ways that I cannot possibly describe. I will sing 'Salvation' under my breath and allow for the words to lift me up and place me in the open arms of my ever-present guardian angel. I will talk to our friends, to our family. I will look at photos and cry. My hand will go to my heart, my face to the sky, and I will ask him to watch over me through the next year. And I will wait. I will wait for the hummingbirds to come.
They always do.
