I asked to be allowed to speak today at this service. I thank you for your time as I share a few thoughts that I have about Andy's life.
There are many words that can be used to describe Andy. Quiet. Mild-mannered. Conformist. These are definitely not three of those words. He had a strong personality. He marched to the beat of a different drummer. Actually, I don't think it was a drummer, but maybe one of those wind-up toy monkeys that bang the cymbals together.
Andy was three years behind me in age. I don't have any recollection of my life before he was born, and it seems like most of my childhood memories involved Andy. Despite my childhood conspiracy theories to the contrary, our parents still deny that he was adopted. The earliest event I can remember is when Mom left us in the car while she went into the drugstore. I was 4 and he was just over 1. I can picture him standing in the front seat bouncing with both hands on the steering wheel, while I was in the back seat. This was not very interesting story until he pulled the car out of gear, and we backed out across Sam Houston Blvd in Victoria. The cars coming from both directions screeched to a halt, and no one was hurt, but the look of horror on my mother's face when she came running out of the drugstore was something I will never forget. Even then, Andy kept us guessing what might happen next.
My earliest memory of the family staying in a hotel room (and actually the ONLY memory I have of us going on a hotel trip) was when a 18 month old Andy pulled the “in the wall” soap dish thing out of the tile. This memory, with many others, also ends with shock and awe on the part of our parents.
Not everything Andy did as a child was destructive, or at least it wasn't always completely his fault when he did something destructive... like the time I found him playing with garden shears, and I dared him to cut through the power cord on the freezer. This was my introduction to electrical safety. I don't think he was old enough to talk at the time, so I don't think Mom and Dad ever knew that I put him up to it.
Andy had a couple of attributes in his personality that were a big part of him. For one thing, he was fearless. His fear of the consequences of punishment were rarely considered when we were doing stuff. He also had a strong desire to be accepted and to impress. These two things worked in my favor when I wanted to see what would happen if...whatever, and most of those things I decided not to try myself after seeing Andy get hurt or punished.
Anyone who knew Andy and me when we were growing up, knew we got along famously.... and by famously I mean that we displayed a textbook example of sibling rivalry only shadowed by that of Cain and Able. We would fight over the most trivial and inconsequential things. His chipped front tooth was the result of whose turn it was to ride in the front seat of the car. Most of the bruises and scrapes and cuts that I recall as a child were the direct result of fights with Andy. In fact, I don't recall any punishment from my parents that didn't involve an incident with Andy. He definitely knew how to push my buttons, and I knew how to push his.
I think that these conflicts did a lot to shape my personality, and has made my life much richer for having been in the family with him.
Over the years, through the school bus rides, the 4H, the little league, the time in Band together, and at camp, we spent a lot of time together, and even went to the same college in Waco, after we were both, at separate times, were invited by the Dean of Men to leave FWBBC in Nashville and pursue our education elsewhere.
As adults, we could generally put the fighting and bickering behind us, and in the past few years since I moved back to the Victoria area, we have had several occasions to go out to eat, go shopping, and just talk.
Even though Andy never had much money, especially since his disability, I never knew a more generous person. He would loan out his rent money, his grocery money, and even his tobacco money to help a stranger who could give him a sad story. Part of this was his need for acceptance, and part of this was his fearlessness, since he knew that God would provide for him somehow, but I think it was mostly an overwhelming spirit of love and compassion that he had flowing through his life. Most of the financial problems that Andy had can be traced back to him trying to help someone out. He was definitely a soft touch on that sort of thing.
Andy also developed a love for Christian music as an adult. If you asked him to sing in a choir, a quartet, or even a solo, he would do what it took to learn the lines, and practice as much as it took to get the song right. He never tried to sing quietly, as he he had a powerful voice, and you could always hear him over the rest of the group. I can only imagine him singing today in Heaven, as loud and proud as anyone, and in perfect pitch.
I can picture him with perfect vision today, seeing the grand awesomeness of God's glory today.
I can imagine him at the great banquet table in Heaven, with no one fussing at him for eating too much, or him worrying about indigestion, or running out of food.
I am looking forward to joining him someday at that feast table, and in that choir, and walking those streets of gold. Maybe, if we have bicycles in Heaven, we can build a ramp, and I can dare him to jump it, and this time he won't break his leg, like when he was 5, but thats another story.
God has blessed me richly by giving me this friend, who I once considered my greatest adversary. I am going to miss my little brother. I am thankful to God for giving us 37 years of Andy.
Thanks for coming today and letting me share this with you.
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