Skip to main content

The Day Our World Changed

November 13, 1989. 11:30 AM


I had just finished my lunch in the teacher's workroom and was walking back to my classroom. I was teaching at San Jacinto Elementary in San Angelo, Texas at the time. Up until then, it had been a typical November day.


As I walked past the school office, the door swung open, and a fellow teacher stepped out with a look of concern on her face. She spoke directly to me and said, “Your wife’s on the phone, and it sounds serious.”


I ran into the office, took the phone, and heard my wife say, “I don’t know what happened, but your brother is on life support in a hospital in Austin.” 


Twelve hours later, my father and I were sharing a room in a hotel on I-35 in Austin. My sister-in-law, Sandy, and her six-year-old daughter, Araceli, were in a room across the hall.

I hardly slept that night. I would doze off and suddenly wake up to my father crying and calling out my brother’s name. 

My brother was dead.

Osiel had collapsed that morning while his high school band was performing at the UIL State Marching Contest in Austin, the victim of a brain aneurysm. He was kept alive on a ventilator until we finally made the decision to let him go at 8:30 that night. He passed away at 8:59.

The memories of that day are burned in my memory. I’ll never forget them. The following days were a painful blur. His picture was on the front page of the San Angelo Standard-Times on the day of his funeral, along with a story of his outstanding career and his tragic, premature death. One of my sisters had a birthday two days after he died. It was hardly a celebration.

Somewhere at home, I have a videotape of his band’s last performance. In the corner of the screen, his collapse is visible. Immediately, a paramedic went to him and began CPR. Within minutes, several people surrounded him, blocking any further viewing. I’ve seen that video twice since his death.

It’s been 25 years since he passed away. His daughter, Araceli, is now married and has two beautiful children. Osiel II was born four months after his dad's death. He's 24 years old and the spitting image of his dad. Sandy's still very close to our family.

Our family's world changed that day. Life without my brother became the new normal. The pain's mostly gone, but his memory will always remain strong.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My Prayer for my Children

John grew up and became strong in spirit. -John 1:80 John the Baptist was an interesting man: a bit eccentric as evidenced by his appearance and his diet, and not afraid to tell the truth. Jesus referred to him as a truly great man. That he was. But one of the things that first gets my attention was that as a child, he became strong in spirit. Strong in spirit refers to being resolute and principled. It describes a person whose character is being molded and refined by learning to trust in God during life's difficulties. It speaks of someone who's not easily swayed by popular culture or opinion but who lives by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God. My children aren't children anymore but I still want them to become strong in spirit because I know they frequently face difficult and painful situations. In their trials, I want them to remember that being strong is spirit is only possible when our lives are deeply rooted in Christ and when we learn to live in the

Unveiling the Unexpected Gift of Suffering: A Christian Perspective

As we approach the Thanksgiving holiday, I'd like to explore an unusual subject: finding thankfulness in the midst of suffering. This might seem odd, but Christianity has a different perspective on suffering that can astonish many. Embracing Thankfulness  Traditionally, as we navigate through the month of November, we often use each day to express thankfulness for various aspects of our lives, ranging from family to health and careers. But, as Christians, we go beyond the norm and find ourselves thankful for rather unusual things—grace, for instance. We are grateful for God's grace and how it instills in us a sense of liberation from our sins. But there's another element, quite peculiar, that we appreciate—suffering. A Christian Perspective on Suffering The notion of being thankful for suffering may sound worrisome. Yet, as followers of Christ, we trust that our trials and tribulations serve a purpose. Every pain, every emotional turmoil, offers an opportunity for spiritual