James P. Rogers

My little brother... My little brother and dearest friend passed away this morning and I am heartbroken. I had plans with April to drive to Clinton yesterday to visit him so I could give him a hug, a kiss and tell him that I loved him and to let him know how much he meant to me as my brother and how important his calls are texts telling me how much he loved me were and that I cherished them. April had to work late so we were unable to make the trip until this morning. I sent April the message that I was ready to leave and she replied that she was heading my way to pick me up to make the drive. The next message I received was from my sister, Rhonda, just three words. "Jim Is Dead "! I never got to see him again! By the time we got to Clinton the coroner had already taken him to the funeral home. We sat in his garage with other family members who had come to visit him as well, all of us hugging crying and trying to hold each other up. I missed being able to see him for the last time by eight hours. I hurt in every single place that a person can hurt, inside and outside. I can't stop crying or thinking about all the times I tried to find rides to Clinton and none were available until it was too late. How much more of this can I take? How much more can my children and grandchildren take? This year we have seen and felt the pain of losing loved ones so often....... I am supposed to be trying to find ways to fight depression but it seems to be impossible when every month another family member or dear friend passes into eternity........... The fifth of six children to the most amazing parents in the universe! Jim was picked on by his three older brothers and in turn, picked on his two sisters…that is until he suddenly realized from a bundle of twigs that daddy picked up at a campground and sat us down in a circle around the campfire at Rocky Mountain National Park. Daddy always taught us lessons as we traveled through our country and across the borders. He said that we needed to learn the history and values that made our country unite and how those values relate to family. As we were sitting around the campfire daddy counted the twigs he had gathered. There were nine. He took one away and handed it to Jimmy and asked him if he could break it in two. We ( the 5 kids) laughed! Anyone can break a twig! Jimmy broke it, and daddy said “good job”! Then daddy took the bundle of twigs remaining and began telling us a story. He told us about how much he and mommy loved us and how they worked as a team together to raise their family. He pulled out two twigs. Then he told us about his United States Air Force years and as he was talking, he pulled out three more twigs. Next, he told us about going to college and earning his degrees and he pulled out two more twigs. Finally he talked about his first teaching job near Rose Hill, Iowa and pulled out the last twig. Eight twigs bundled together. Once again, he handed the twigs to my little brother Jimmy to break. Jimmy could not break the bundle. Daddy handed the bundle to Happy, the oldest of the brothers and told him to break the bundle. Happy couldn’t break it either, in fact, none of us could! Daddy took the bundle of eight twigs back and said, “Always remember that we are a family and as long as we hold each other together we can’t be broken “. I’ll never forget that lesson and, I witnessed that lesson in my brother James Phillip Rogers throughout his entire live despite conflicts, afflictions, suffering, joy or sadness he always did his part to keep the bundle together and thriving!