Henry was everything an older brother should be. He sits right at the center of my earliest memories. He bought me my very first bicycle—a gorgeous aqua three-speed—using one of his first real paychecks. He must have only been eighteen or nineteen, but to me he felt so grown-up and generous.
It was always Henry who showed up to check on me whenever I spent the night at a friend’s house. I can still picture the beam of his flashlight bouncing up the path to the neighbor’s door, then the soft knock, and his quiet question—“Do you want to come home?” I always knew he was looking out for me.
When he began dating Mary Ann, he brought me right along into that new world. They took me on movie dates, invited me for dinner, and let me help as they set up their first apartment. Because of Henry, I got to experience the magic of watching two people fall in love—and I gained the gift of a bonus sister who I adored from the beginning.
Our upbringing wasn’t an easy one—the sins of the fathers, as Scripture says—and I remember talking with him about that. He knew he favored Dad in looks, yet he carried a deep desire not to repeat those patterns. He worked so hard to hold onto the good in our family heritage and to release the rest. That is no small thing, but I truly believe he did it—through the Lord’s grace and the gentle, steady love of Mary Ann.
I am so honored to be Henry’s sister, and my heart feels shattered that he left us far too soon. But I thank God that this isn’t the end—that one day, I will see him again.