Today I remember my brother, Alex Andrew Withrow, whom I've never met. Alex was born October 18, 1977, three years before me. My mom had this feeling during her entire pregnancy that something just wasn't quite right. The doctors reassured her that all was well with her little baby, and they even did some testing to put her at ease. From what they could tell at the time, Alex was developing properly in the womb. His measurements were always right on track, and everything seemed to be going well from the doctor's perspective.
When Alex was born some problems occured. The doctors believe that his tiny lungs weren't fully developed or they weren't ready to support his life. We don't know exactly what happened; maybe with all the medical knowledge we now have, we would have more answers. This is what is so hard for me. Why couldn't they do something? What would he have been like? Who would he look like? What would be important to him? These are questions I've pondered so many times throughout my life. Perhaps the toughest thing of all is that I do not have any pictures of Alex. He was scheduled to have his hospital pictures taken when he was two days old. The Lord took him home before that happened. My mom doesn't need pictures. She'll never forget the beautiful face of precious Alex. She says he had the darkest, deepest brown eyes she's ever seen. I only wish I could see them now.
Today I'm sad and joyful all at the same time. I'm sad Alex isn't here with me, that I've never been able to give him a hug and kiss. Yet at the very same time, I'm delighted knowing that his little feet never touched this soiled, sinful world. I know he is with the Lord rejoicing and worshipping. I miss you, Alex. I long to see you. I will always remember what Mom tells me about you, and I want you to know you have a special place in my heart. Happy 31st birthday, big brother. I love you. I can't wait to meet you.