Drew - A Few Memories for His Funeral

This post is the remarks I gave at my brother Drew's funeral. It was a mixed day of celebration, laughter and so, so many tears. My sisters and I had a small mountain of tissues on the floor by the time the funeral service was over. It was a day I don't think I would ever want to revisit but there was a lot of valuable closure that came from it. I shared a few memories and then a story I'd told my siblings at dinner two days before the funeral which they insisted I tell and finished with a favorite story from our childhood. 

A few memories of Drew:

Sharing a room in our house in providence and staying up late playing.

I remember him having surgeries and coming home all bandaged up. He had staples and a lightening bolt shaped scar on the side of his head and we thought he was the luckiest!

Running away one day to the tree in the back yard and the realizing we didn't have any way I'd cooking the box of macaroni and cheese we brought with us.

We served a year of our missions together. Dropping Drew off at the MTC was actually the experience that really motivated me to serve too. He set the example for me.

He found a typewriter in a dumpster on his mission and wrote me some of the most hilarious letters. I could hardly read them through tears of laughter.

In fall 2015 he stopped by on his way home from working for the summer and he brought with him a keypad lock for our door. Watching him install the keypad lock on our door was seeing Drew in his element. That thing has been the greatest and I thank Drew for looking out for us every time I use it.

Sitting at the top of 30 Rockefeller plaza and looking at New York City. I remember really talking to Drew on this occasion. Watching his eyes light up in amazement at times square at night. I will treasure that trip to NYC with him forever.

The story my siblings insisted I tell:

I received a letter from Drew while we were serving our missions together. Drew told of how he and his companion were riding bikes from one small town to another somewhere outside of Raleigh, North Carolina. All of a sudden Drew heard the call of nature- and it was calling loudly. It was also not the call of a number one.

There was nothing but woods for miles around so he decided to stop and relieve himself. He took off into the woods and did his business. When he was done he realized that there was nothing to use for toilet paper. Stuck in quite the dilemma he began to dig through his backpack. From the depths of his bag he pulled an old, tattered copy of the Book of Mormon. He tore out a few pages, finished his business and went on his way rejoicing.

Yes, that really happened. And yes he did type that story out on his dumpster type writer.

One of my favorite memories and one I felt compelled to write about in the days following Drew's death:

When we were kids we would play in the irrigation ditch in our back yard every day in the summer. One of the favorite activities was to run up the street to the head gate just past our next door neighbor Opal’s house and throw toys in the water. I remember having a superman toy with a little cape that was one of the favorites for this game. These toys had to go underground at the head gate and make a turn beneath Opal’s yard before emerging from the pipe on our side of the fence.  We’d race back to our house and try to beat the toys on their journey. We would always be so delighted when they’d come bobbing along out of the pipe and plop into the pool of water we'd dammed up.

I feel like that irrigation ditch is a little like this life and Drew is that little superman. We all get tossed into the irrigation ditch and have to somehow make it through the rough waters, the neighbor’s grate, make the turn and emerge on the other side. There were a lot of toys that got lost during this process. One time my dad went over to help the neighbor because she was having problems with the grate in her yard being clogged. Well, he ended up finding a whole slew of toys that had been stuck in her grate. But not that Superman. He always seemed to make his way through, ahead of the rest.

Now Drew has made it through, ahead of the rest of us. He’s emerged on the other side and although I can imagine it’s a somber experience for my grandparents to see him home so early there is much rejoicing and excitement. I’d be willing to bet my grandpa Anderson was standing there with his cowboy boots and hat saying “Let’s get to work Eewie Dewie Rich and Chewy!”. I am sure my Grandma and Granddad Jenks are teaching him the best ways to help teach the gospel to those who still need to hear it. I’m sure he’s joining them in missing all of us who’re still here, beneath the neighbor’s yard fighting the rough waters.

Eternity is long and I am glad to know that we have that long eternity to spend with our brother and the rest of our family. In the meantime, it’s going to be hard to live without our brother, uncle, son, cousin and friend. It’s going to be tough when I snap a funny picture of my son to remember that I can’t text it to Drew. That I can’t call him up and have one-sided conversations where I pepper him with questions and he gives his trademark mono-syllabic answers in return. 

But instead of letting these moments of missing him get me down, I'm going to think if him as he is now- happy and at peace, on to better and brighter things. I'm going to be thankful for the time we had here, I'm going to smile every time I unlock my back door and thank Drew for keeping us safe. Instead of mourning for the life he won't get to experience here, I'll imagine the life he has now. He's made it to the other end of the irrigation ditch, our little Superman. 

Drew, I love you and I'm going miss you every day for the rest of my life.