Say it isn't so

In the days following my brother's death, I was clinging to the hope that the funeral director could work a miracle and "fix" my brother so that we could say goodbye and that the images I was left with the day I found him would at least be replaced by someone that resembled my brother better. At that point, I felt the Lord "owed" it to me and to my mother, especially. The Monday after his death, I received a call from my father saying that the funeral director was not able to make it possible for a viewing at all. My already aching heart felt like it was torn in pieces all over again. So now I was facing the fact that what I saw the day I found him would be the way I would remember him forever. He was already gone 24-36 hours when I found him and the funeral director couldn't even begin to work on him until 3 more days after that. It was just too much time. My miracle would never come. The images I was wishing I could forget seemed to haunt me for the next few months. I couldn't concentrate on anything else. It was constantly on my mind. However, the Lord knew how much my days were consumed with these images and protected my mind while I slept for I never had nightmares or even good dreams about him. I didn't have my first dream about my brother at all until over a year after his death. And then it was a dream I wished I didn't wake up from for it was a glimpse of him again after so much time.