I know that many people have challenges keeping their relationships with their siblings healthy. I have been so blessed! My big brother Kurt and I shared many wonderful things, but the thing I cherish the most is our love of music.

The last text I got from Kurt was on September 16, 2020. He wanted me to listen to the song Shine On by Robert Jon and the Wreck. I was too busy that day to listen, and actually, I forgot all about his text. Three short days later, the unthinkable happened; after a lovely day fishing and visiting with family and our Daddy, Kurt went home and then collapsed from a heart attack. Tragically, we took him off life support on September 23, 2020.

The morning Kurt passed, I opened my text messages and saw his song recommendation. I listened to the song he recommended for the very first time with his daughter Carmen. She and I knew it was a message from him, and I knew he wanted me to do his celebration of life video and to use Shine On. For days, I listened to the song, grieving and gathering photos and videos of my beautiful, big-hearted brother. I learned that there were very few photos where Kurt was not smiling, and I loved that! I was so grateful Kurt led me to the song Shine On. It is a perfect theme song for his life.

Somehow, the images all landed in the video I made for his Celebration of Life. I hope the video will remind all those who knew Kurt that he is still shining on in our hearts.

I had a phone conversation with my brother Kurt on September 4, 2020, and our conversation turned to politics.

Kurt and I were on opposite sides of the political spectrum. Our discussion that day was about sharing of “I believe this because.” Ironically, though, right at the moment I was triggered by something Kurt said, our call dropped. I tried to call him back, and he tried to call me, but we could not reconnect. He sent me a text that said, “Next time, sis, let’s talk about guitars!” But we never did get to have that talk. Kurt had a heart attack on September 21st and died a few days later. Though we shared texts, our last conversation was about politics, and that makes me feel terrible.

When Kurt died, my trigger broke. I became immune to being hooked by the news or politics. Those things lost their hold on my heart. I wish our last conversation had been about music because music is something precious we share. When I think about it now, I feel silly about how much weight I once gave to what politicians, celebrities, or the media said/did; those things don’t matter. Is it possible to develop immunity from being triggered in a world where we are fed a constant stream of stories of people suffering, fearful, or being ugly to one another? All that ugliness once had my attention and ate away at my soul. But I can choose to refocus my thoughts on my family and disengage with the ugliness.

Kurt’s death helped break my trigger, but I needed more help. I wanted to find a daily devotional and found one on the Catholic Company website, based on the visions of Saint Hildegard of Bingen, titled Let There Be Light. Reading this book inspired me to start writing again. This passage from pages 22-23 touched me deeply.

Kurt’s clay sculpture is complete, and he is home with God.

But I am still here—one of the lost sheep Hildegard mentioned, trying to turn my focus each day onto “the impervious goodness of the Lord.” I see Hildegard’s symbolism of pearls as wisdom and precious stones as love. I believe that we take our love and wisdom home to God when we go. So, for the time being, I’ll do my best to gather all the precious stones and pearls I can.

Several years ago, my son was facing a brutal personal challenge, and I didn’t know what to do. The options for ways I could assist him were swirling in my mind, but honestly, I didn’t know what the “right” thing to do was.

So, I went into contemplation to ask for guidance, and Mother Mary came in. I clearly heard the most profound thing:

“If I can witness my son bear his cross, so can you.”

Wow! Now, that was quite a thought! And as I considered the idea of witnessing the cross more deeply, it became clearer to me. I looked back at the story of Jesus. I didn’t see much about Mary there. I had images from Hollywood movies, and that really wasn’t it. It became more significant as I imagined Mary and what she was teaching through her example about being a mother.

I considered Mary’s examples:

• She was there.
  

• She stood by.
  

• She didn’t pick up the cross and carry it for her son. That was for Jesus to do, and she respected this.
  

• She didn’t intervene — there is no written record of Mary going to Pontius Pilate and asking him to reconsider his verdict or sentence.
  

• Mary didn’t mettle.
  

• She did not rescue.
  

• She was simply there, present, loving, standing by.

This contemplation about Mary gave me such enormous comfort that day. It was huge, especially once I understood the mess was my son’s cross. I felt at peace and could be present with my son throughout his challenge. Only when asked did I offer advice. I did not scold. I listened. I was present. And he took care of the clean-up on his own.

Recently, I heard of a man who came upon a butterfly struggling to emerge from her cocoon. With earnest intentions, this man cut the cocoon open to free the butterfly so it would have an easier time emerging. Inevitably, though, the butterfly died. Why? It was too soon to fly, and the butterfly needed the struggle to strengthen her wings. She needed to find her way out of the cocoon in her own time and complete the metamorphosis when she was ready.

That is how it works for us, too; when we struggle, we get stronger. That is part of the plan. Struggles are simply crosses that offer us ways to learn, experience, get stronger, and grow. Everyone has their very own cross in life.

Once, I worked on a book about dogs and why we love them so much. One of the reasons is that when we are hurting, they know. They don’t bark solutions. Dogs sit with us, love us, and comfort us. We cry, and dogs don’t complain or tell us what to do or to be quiet. The example of a dog’s love shows us precisely what it is like to use Mary’s example and sit with someone while witnessing them with their own “cross.”

If you wish, contemplate the examples here from Mary, butterflies, and our beloved dogs. Each is an excellent model for our relationships. I will continue to explore Mary’s teachings on motherhood. Be present. Stand by. Comfort. Offer love. Be compassionate. I hope it helps you as much as it did me.

My mother-in-law Jane grew butterflies. Yes, it’s true she actually tended and grew butterflies! The Black Swallowtail that has hints of blue on its wings was her favorite.

Swallowtails lay their eggs on parsley, so each year, Jane planted a pot filled with parsley in her backyard to attract these beautiful creatures. This activity became a family tradition.

Jane and the grandchildren checked the parsley for little white dots (eggs), and when they found a dot, they carefully tore off the parsley sprig. The sprig was gently transferred to a fishbowl lined with flat, rounded-edge marbles, and Jane inserted a wooden stick. She and the grandkids put a piece of thin netting on the top of the bowl and secured it with a rubber band around the lip. Jane said that the flat marbles were important because the butterfly’s wings were very delicate, and when they emerged, part of the process was to sit on the marbles at the bottom of the bowl and flap until their wings dried. The rounded, flat marbles protected their wings from being damaged.

The kids waited for the magic to happen! But they did not have to wait long for a small caterpillar to emerge from those eggs. Those caterpillars hatched into a wonderful, safe place with lots of yummy parsley to feast upon and the netting also kept them safe from predators. The grandkids loved checking on a caterpillar’s progress and got so excited when the caterpillars climbed the stick, went still, and started to form a chrysalis. The kids were fascinated. They wanted to return to grandmother’s house as often as possible to see the butterflies emerge.

It was rare that the grandkids witnessed the great miracle of nature when the butterflies emerged from the cocoon. Still, Grandmother would keep the butterflies safe in the bowl after they emerged and until the kids arrived to see these beauties. Then, in almost a ceremony, as a family, they went into the yard to set the butterflies free, cheering as they took flight.

One year, one of the butterflies did not emerge from its cocoon. Grandmother kept that fishbowl intact. When the kids asked if they could cut the butterfly free, she said no, “Let’s just wait and see what happens.”

Thanksgiving came, then Christmas, then New Year’s, then Valentine’s Day…the cocoon looked healthy but was dormant, so Jane left it on the table. Just before Easter that year, something magical happened…the cocoon started to come alive and change colors. Soon, a beautiful butterfly emerged. We were all amazed that it lasted through the winter! This was the season’s first butterfly, and that memory is so special that even though many years have passed since she took flight, none of us have ever forgotten her story.

All things and all creatures on earth are connected to God, and God knows the right time for us to bloom.  

Since this time with Jane, I learned that her instinct not to cut the butterfly free was the right thing to do. Why? If you cut a butterfly free too soon from its cocoon, it will die. The butterfly is meant to experience the benefits it gains from the struggle of emerging—it needs to go through a full process. Through that struggle, its wings become strong enough to handle the winds.

I know that sometimes in my life, I have wished for someone or something to cut me free from my own struggles. I have begun to realize that no one can, could, or should cut me free. There have been times when I have watched my loved ones struggle, and I wanted to help them. But now, through this lesson from a butterfly, I realize the beautiful power of struggle, which is simply meant to strengthen us.

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. Romans, 12:2 NIV