Seven years ago my brother Ronnie died from a rare cancer. He was one of the most "Real" people I have ever known. He was 16 years older than me so I looked up to him as more than a brother but also as someone with more years and wisdom. When he got sick, we took him to MD Anderson and we were told there was really nothing that could be done and they encouraged us to go home and allow him to enjoy his last days with family and friends. One particular day my sister in law and her son were walking with Ronnie and he suddenly stopped and looked straight ahead and asked, "how old is that man?" My sister in law obviously could not see the person my brother was referring to and asked, "I do not know, what is his name?" My brother replied, "I think they call him Rudolph". My sister in law called me and relayed the story. She was concerned that maybe he was delusional, however, he never again said anything else out of the ordinary. Two days after this conversation on January 11 he died.
Ronnie had lived his life well and was very well respected in his community. On the night of the funeral visitation, we, the family, were asked to start visitation early as the line of people who came to pay their respects was so long it went out the door and into the street. We started an hour early and stayed late to greet all the visitors. I left the funeral home that night tired, sad but thankful for all the people his life had touched. Even in the midst of all the love and concern expressed, that night I found myself asking God, "just tell me one more time that I will see him again. I have heard him tell all of his grandchildren he will see them again one day and I just need to know - is it true?"
I have been a Christian for a very long time. I believe but I also have a certain understanding of the man in Mark who brought his child to Jesus for healing. Jesus said to him, "If you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes." The father of the child cried out and said with tears, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!"
As I was walking out of the funeral home I glanced up at the marquee with my brother's name and time of service. Next to that marquee was another one and it had the name of a man who was also to have a service the next day. His name was Charles RUDOLPH Kirchner. I heard God whisper, "Is that a good enough sign for you?"
My sister in law waited 3 months and then called Mr. Kirchner's widow and told her the story. She told her she felt that her husband had walked into Heaven with Mr. Kirchner. They died within 30 minutes of each other. Mrs. Kirchner said she had prayed to know her husband was at peace. He had Lou Gehrig's disease and was unable to speak for the past 10 years. She also said, "no one called him Charles, his name was Rudolph".
There is a quote found in The Velveteen Rabbit that I love. It was written by Margery Williams.
"You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and our eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
I just want to be Real.
