Bill's Song of Victory
by Carol Hall (Also printed in Treasures in the Darkness)
Website: God's Rose
“The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.”—Psalm 18:2
Bill is my middle brother of three. He loved people, especially the elderly. Bill enjoyed the outdoors, landscaping, wood burning, playing drums and the harmonica with his gospel group, as well as assisting his wife and mother-in-law during outings with the girl scouts. I even taught him to crochet when he was 10, and he was pretty good at it! Because Bill was built big, but not heavy, my youngest brother, Jimmy, lovingly nicknamed him Brewster. Bill was just one of those all around good guys that enjoyed life and was loved by everyone.
My spirits were lifted often during warm summer days or early fall days, as I glimpsed colorful flowers just planted in my yard. My favorites were the Impatiens, and Bill knew that. As he watered the flowers he had just planted, he would ask proudly, “Whatdya think, Sis?” He loved bringing joy to others. He was just a big teddy bear, which was his trademark to his wife and me, because he loved bringing us both teddy bears ‘just because.’
Thanksgiving was mine and Bill’s favorite holiday. After stuffing himself with his wife, Michaela’s, wonderful cooking, he’d perform his drive-by taste tests at the homes of other friends and family. But he saved his afternoon meal for Sis’s cornbread oyster dressing. Only he and I had a palate for oyster dressing, so I always made a side dish for our afternoon meal. It is a tradition in my house for everyone to gather around 4 p.m. on Thanksgiving Day to go out and choose a live Christmas tree. Once it was decorated and everyone had stuffed themselves one last time, they departed for their homes. Then Bill and I would sit on the sofa relaxing in front of the tree reminiscing while the lights flickered with a peaceful glow.
One day in January 1993, Bill became very sick. He grew worse and was hospitalized in February. Biopsies were performed, but nothing was determined. By the beginning of March, he was weak and his breathing was labored, so a surgical lung biopsy was performed. Bill had never been sick and had never smoked, so the family expected the problem to be discovered and resolved. After surgery, he was moved to the hospital’s Intensive Care Unit. The surgeon was unsure of his diagnosis, but it didn’t look good. He informed the family that Bill may not live through the night due to his seriously damaged lungs. We were all totally devastated. All we could do was cry and say, “No! No!” After complications, many tests were sent to hospitals all across the United States to determine a diagnosis. Finally, the diagnosis was discovered. It was advanced Wegener’s Granulomatosis, which at that time was a very rare lung disease. All we could do was cry and pray. Bill was in God’s hands.
During Bill’s one-month hospital stay, he remained in ICU on life support. The family was given permission to decorate his room and play gospel music. Bill was a Christian, and he needed to hear positive, faith filled music and conversations. He communicated very little, but we talked, prayed, and read the Bible to him often. Bill was used to working with his hands and showing his love through the work of his hands. So one day I said, “Bill, you know you can pray to God in your heart, and He hears you. But, if you want to let your prayers be known outwardly, just raise your hands and let your fingers do your talking. This is known as the 10-finger prayer, which is found in Philippians 4:13. It says, I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me.” Bill immediately raised those once strong hands in a praise to our living God. The strength he found to raise those precious hands at this time could have only come from God.
On March 29, 1993, the family was called to Bill’s bedside. We were told his time was short. The monitors revealed the battle within his body as it fought to leave and yet stay. His wife, Michaela, and I were at his bedside in his last moments. Michaela held one of Bill’s hands and I held the other. She encouraged him to go and be in peace. But I knew what his battle was. He didn’t want to leave Michaela alone, so I spoke this promise from a sister’s heart, “Don’t worry about Michaela, Bill. She will not be alone. I will stand by her. You gave me the sister I never had. Now, you walk toward the light. Jesus is waiting for you. We’ll meet again in Heaven.” These words seemed to give him the peace he needed to let go of this life. As Michaela and I held his hands, we watched the monitors as they revealed he was leaving us. On March 29, 1993, Michaela and I were the closest to Heaven on earth that we could ever be without going there ourselves, because we were holding Bill’s hands in this life while Bill reached out and took Jesus’ hands in Heaven. I had done my crying. Now, I was rejoicing and praising God, because Bill was home! He won the race that we are still in.
At Bill’s funeral, his favorite psalm was read … Psalm 18 – “A Song of Victory.”
Early on Thanksgiving morning everyone was either sleeping or out and about, but I was standing in my kitchen crying and feeling sad because Bill would not be with us this year. He had been gone for eight months now. All of a sudden—I heard music. As tears streamed down my cheeks, I walked from my kitchen to my living room doorway. There on a shelf was a rotating music box with two angels on top and a dove at their feet. It had been sitting there for years, but it had never started playing by itself before! I instantly knew I was experiencing a special angelic visitation. I felt peace. Not only did it play music, but it rotated all the way around as it played the song, “Oh Holy Night,” and it stopped when the angels were facing ME! I know Bill sent his angels to me on that Thanksgiving morning to bring me joy, as he had done himself so many times before. I immediately stopped crying and a smile replaced my tears. I looked up toward heaven and said, “Are you trying to tell me something?” It was as though I felt the answer in my heart immediately, and I said, “I know you will always be with me. I love you.” As I rewound my music box and listened to its melody once again, “Oh Holy Night … The stars are brightly shining …” I knew this was Bill’s “Song of Victory” sent especially for me.
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