Siblings

Friends, these are the words I spoke at our Jeremy’s funeral. May they remind you to hold your people a little tighter. On the days when it's easy to. And maybe most especially on the days when it's not. Because every day together is a gift.

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Siblings are your first friends.

Not by choice.

But by shared DNA.

They know you inside out.

Become your most faithful button pushers.

Fiercest allies.

Enemies one day, besties the next. 

Memories breathe themselves into existence because of them.

They walk your best and most boring ordinary moments alongside you.

Know your deepest vulnerabilities.

Tenaciously tear you down at times.

And then somehow just as quickly know how to build you back up. 

They know your childhood fears.

Have contributed to countless adventures and shenanigans. 

Shared meals and vacations and school bus rides and rigid church pews. 

They’ve laughed at you and with you.

Blamed you and even occasionally shouldered the blame. 

They were your daily companions and partners and secret keepers. 

And the Bowman Bunch was no exception. 

RSKBJ hardly lived a day independent of one another in some combination. 

We were a force. 

A living, breathing organism.

Both overwhelming and intriguing and probably somewhat annoying to outsiders.

And while each of us was wildly different.

Beautifully so. 

We were also strangely similar. 

And while our paths took us in all different directions. 

And our relationships with each other ebbed and flowed. 

The common bond we shared remained the same.

We loved and were loved. 

By each other. 

Deeply.

Every single day of our lives. 

Until that love got so big.

And reliable.

And unconditional.

That it defied distance and time. 

It became a second skin.

Because it was fortified by shared experiences. 

Strengthened by deep sorrow and palpable joy.

Built up by life experience and growing wisdom. 

And reinforced by relentlessly showing up for each other year after year.

Our love was so genuine.

And so powerful.

And so secure.

And so sacred.

That I didn’t even fully realize its power.

Until it was ripped away.

And a gaping hole hole was left in its wake.

But in these grueling days since the “J” in our Bowman Bunch has left this earth. 

I’ve come to know. 

That although grief is outrageously huge. 

Engulfing at times. 

Unpredictable in nature.

Wildly exhausting.

A bring you to your knees kind of powerful.

I’ve also come to understand. 

That our love is simply bigger. 

And it’s as simple and as hard as that. 

Because even though our sibling connection was created in love.

By our amazing parents who then nurtured and stoked it.

At a certain point in life.

Those sibling relationships become more chosen than genetic.

And RSKandB were lucky enough to be chosen by J.

Oh how blessed we were.

And we chose him right back.

Because he made that such an easy choice.

And as I look around this room. 

I see all the people who Jeremy chose, too.

Gladly, openly, willingly, effortlessly, happily.

And in his last hours, with his beloved and chosen wife, Kelsie.

And his best pal, Brandon, by his side.

Jeremy spent his moments reliving the ordinary days of his life.

That he chose to spend.

With. All. Of. Us.

And, dear family, I can’t help but believe.

That Jeremy would want us to continue to choose each other.

Not because of DNA.

But because of the love. 

That will always be bigger and stronger and deeper than the grief. 

And so today, as we honor Jeremy.

I pray that our Babes, Jeremy’s nieces and nephews.

Will choose each other their whole lives through as well. 

Even after they walk their separate paths. 

Because what I know for sure.

And what Jeremy so beautifully showed us. 

Is that at the end of a life well lived and loved—it’s all that matters.