{ Brock Allan Cherry }

I really have no idea how to even begin to write such a horrible and sad entry. This last week was by far the longest, worst week of my entire life. One I never thought I'd have to go through. On the morning of December 24th, 2011, my youngest brother, Brock Allan Cherry, was killed in a car accident. My mom called me early Saturday morning to say Brock had gotten in a car accident and didn't make it. Instantly I could feel all the blood rush out of my head and into my heart where I thought my heart would beat completely out of my chest. With every beat I couldn't comprehend what my mom had just told me. Instantly I jumped out of bed, told Jordan we had to go, broke down right then and there, grabbed some sweats and my coat, broke down again, and flew out the door. I'm pretty sure that ride from Jordan's parent's house to EIRMC was only 45 minutes but felt like the 8 hour ride to Washington. 

After running into the emergency room the first face I saw was my Aunt Linda sobbing and trying to catch her breath. The emergency room clerk had to make a ridiculous phone call to allow me to even get back there to be with my family but was quickly briefed on what I was about to see. I will never, ever forget the state of my little brother upon entering that emergency room. Instantly I broke down and kept yelling "No, no, no, no..." I think my dad caught me before I hit the floor but it didn't really matter at that point. I realized I had just lost my little brother.

Now that I know what happened, how the accident played out, I know it was a good thing that my brother was the only person in the car. That accident could have even more catastrophic than it already was. After five minutes of searching, Nathan (my other younger brother, who was in his car in front of Brock coming back to Shelley), found Brock on the ground, unresponsive, with no vitals that he could tell. Paramedics arrived 10 minutes later, did CPR, but still not a single vital could be found. My little brother was now up with Heavenly Father.

Over the last six days my mom, Nathan, and I have had to make decisions we never thought we'd have to make. What songs should we play during the funeral ceremony? Should there be an open or a closed casket? What pictures should we put in the program? The only reason we opened any gifts Christmas morning was to find a black long-sleeve t-shirt for my brother to be buried in. My mom and I went shopping for a pair of shoes to bury my little brother in because one of the shoes he was wearing that morning was still missing. 

The day after Christmas the junk yard finally allowed us to gather all of my little brother's things out of what was left of his car. Looking at that car made me break down all over again. Getting even a small sense of what he went through that morning and how scared he probably was breaks my heart. Printing picture after picture, knowing they're going to be displayed at a funeral is something that should never have to be done for someone so young. My little brother was a great student. He was going to graduate, go to an art school in Denver, CO, and continue with his true passion of skateboarding to one day become a pro-skateboarder. What high school student can say they almost got sponsored two different times? My little brother can.

The night of the viewing was completely overwhelming. Certain family and close friends were present for an open casket, after which was changed to a closed casket for others. Ten minutes before the viewing was even set to begin a staff member of the funeral home informed me there were already at least 150 people waiting outside to come in and pay their respects. When that night was said and done my family and I had given a hug to probably over 250 people. Most of these people I admit I had never seen before but all the same am grateful to have done so.

The day of the funeral was even more overwhelming. Somehow myself, Nathan, my dad, and even my mom were able to hold back a lot of the tears and speak at the funeral. My brother touched more people's lives than I ever could have known. That was made very evident with how many more people were present that day. When do you see people crowded at the back of a funeral home's chapel and in every overflow area? The funeral home's owner told my aunt later that day that in all the years he's been doing this, he'd never seen that many people present for a single funeral. This man is about 50-years-old and his father owned the funeral home before him. There were a great deal of people that passed through those doors that day.

From the moment my family and I heard the news we knew finances were going to be a huge struggle. However, before we knew it, all my brother's friends had banned together to raise the money required. All the money. In a matter of 6 days, between all my brother's friends and some family, enough money was raised to cover the funeral, the plot in the cemetery, the headstone, the medical bills, and possibly have some leftover. If you have any idea how much a funeral is you know it's definitely not on the cheap side. No mother should have to bury their baby boy let alone have to worry about how she's going to be able to afford it. I owe my brother's friends more than I could ever repay. What they all did for my mom, my dad, Nathan, and I is something that will continue to amaze me. It's a comfort to know that there really are genuine friends in the world (even though the ones I do know drove me insane growing up). Thank you doesn't begin to cover my gratitude to these fine young men and women.

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I know God knows us better than we know ourselves and I know that God has a plan for each and every one of us. Sometimes that plan he has for us is greater than the one we have for ourselves. I know that by the proper authority the work can be done for my brother. I know that one day I will see my brother again. I know this. Then my mother asks me, "Does God really have a plan for us? Why did God have to take him?" I can bear my testimony of the truthfulness of it until I'm blue in the face, but it won't bring her baby boy back. It's not what she really wants to hear. But I do know that God has a divine plan for each of us. I do know that I will see my brother again someday. And I do know that I will receive an answer as to why this happened. Someday. Someday, when Heavenly Father feels I'm ready to hear the answer, I will hear it. And how I already long for that day. As we speak I know he's smiling his beautiful smile and laughing his contagious laugh while doing what he loves most...skateboarding.

I love you Brock!

To view the photo/video tribute for Brock Allan Cherry visit here.

To view a skateboarding video Brock made himself visit my facebook page.

 

Not a day will go by that I won't be missing you little brother!