Two Men Named MOSES! – A Tribute

On Friday, November 9, 2012, our world came to a screeching halt with a not-so-simple message that our only brother fell asleep and never woke up.

The initial shock was replaced with a gripping fear for Mum and Dad: How would we tell them that their only son, a healthy man, would never again wake up to an earthly world!  To say we were heart-broken or devastated is a severe understatement.  It is with God's grace that we were able to feel the sun's heat even though we could not fully enjoy the beauty or smell the fragrance of the beautiful flowers that were being sent in his honor.

With each breath and each passing moment, we started to accept the reality that Mo was indeed gone to be with the God that he served so faithfully.  That realization helped us to replace the physical warmth of his voice and his presence with the many memories we have of him.  

You see, Mo was well accomplished in his personal and professional life, leading his beautiful family as impeccably as did his colleagues.  To his friends, he was Douggie or Douglas, the kind-hearted, easy going and faithful friend who was committed to living his life according to God’s will.  In professional circles, he was Dr. Carew, the people’s leader who treated you just as respectfully and with equal dignity whether you were in a business suit or in an apron.  To us, his family, he was our brother, the eldest of five children and an only son.  He was the most modest, soft-spoken, selfless, unassuming, and honorable person I knew.  This man was the closest to a perfect being I have ever known!  Mo epitomized the ideals of the men my sisters and I prayed that God would bless us with and even as an adult, I still revered him with an equal dose of awe and fear of living up to his expectations.  He was a man of few words, in sharp contrast to a father who was a man of many, many, many words.  Dad never met a person who he could not strike a conversation with.

In the months since he left us, Mo’s voice of reasoning was definitely missed as Dad’s angst to go home became more pronounced.  Over the last few years, we had been battling with Dad about his consistent and urgent desire to return to Sierra Leone.  All of us were determined to keep him in America.  Conference call after conference call, the tension continued to rise as Dad beat down every effort we made to keep him away from Sierra Leone.  These were some of the moments when I fully grasped the value of the gift that Mo was.

Dad was successful in unnerving all of us, except Mo.  I could never understand how Mo stayed calm and was always the voice of reason in contrast to us wanting to take up arms in coercing Dad to stay.  This was the same approach Mo took when we went to him for guidance, regardless of the situation.  To our chagrin, Mo proved over and over, that despite his love for us, he would not take sides with us in a dispute if we were wrong.  But, that’s not what big brothers do!  To Mo, that’s what a man of honor does and he was a man of honor.

Despite our adamant resistant to Dad's wish to go home, it really intensified in the last year.  He told us repeatedly that he did not want to die in a foreign land.  This desire strengthened with each loss he suffered over the last three years as he lost just about all of his remaining siblings and then his only son.  We tried every gimmick imaginable to delay him having his wish and finally, we reluctantly gave in.  Dad got to Sierra Leone on April 14, 2013.  He couldn't have been happier to march into Holy Trinity Church for Sunday services and go to family functions, and even funerals.  He was finally home, the place where his heart truly rests!

After Mo’s death, we were so focused on making sure Mum was ok, and failed to give equal attention to making sure Dad was as well.  As with everyone, we assumed that as a man, he would be fine.  Dad never recovered from the heartbreak of losing his only son so suddenly.  During his final days, we found out that he clutched Mo's picture and carried it around with him.  He had been telling us that he was ready to go see his son and had repeatedly said that his time was close.  When he went further to say that 2013 would not leave him on earth, I told him something I'd come to say to him often: "Satan doesn't want you and God is not ready for you."  Each time I said that, I was well aware that I was working hard to convince myself more than I was Dad.

On Wednesday, May 29, 2013, Dad, a devoted husband to Mum for 60 years, died peacefully in his sleep with none of us around.  The irony of this occurrence was not lost on us.  Our only brother, Moses Douglas Carew, Jr., just as the father he was named after, also left us peacefully in his sleep, with none of us around.  My greatest consolation comes from finding out that in his final hours, Dad made his peace with God and asked for God’s mercy.

There are two amazing final gifts from Dad that I will always be grateful for. All of us knew and never really opposed Dad's desire to be buried at Race Course Road Cemetery, in Freetown, as was customary with the Carew family.  He'd said he did not want to die in a foreign land and did not want to be transported home as cargo in a box.  While we fought so hard to resist his wish to return home, even convincing ourselves that he was being selfish and unreasonable, Dad was handing us a gift that was cloaked in his simple wish. He knew the exorbitant expenses we incurred to transport Mo and all of the hurdles we had to jump through to obtain clearances and make final decisions.  Dad was clear that he did not want us to endure that a second time.  Yet, we were too caught up in our selfish desires to have him stay away from home.  In realizing his wish, Dad saved us hours of grueling international conference calls, painstaking discussions to make decisions on the who, what, how, when and where of everything; dissecting bank accounts to cover what would have been another steep preparation and transportation price tag; and of course, the painful experience of having our Dad preserved, weighed, tagged, boxed and transported along with other cargo in the belly of a plane.  His wish was actually a gift to us.  What a final memory to have of Dad, knowing he was expressing his love for us even in the face of our resistance.

Secondly, Dad reiterated a lesson some of us inadvertently ignore: Listen to your intuition and never let anyone deter you from pursuing your goal; not even your loved ones. And, if at first you don't succeed, try, try, try again."  You see, it is clear to me now that Dad knew deep inside, that his purpose on earth had been fulfilled and he was holding on till he got home and put his "affairs in order".  For the first time, he drafted and shared his will with all of us in April.  He knew that his turn was pretty close to the front of the line.  His intuition, sixth sense, that nagging feeling, the voice in his head or whatever we want to call it, was compelling him to hold fast to his desire to get home right away.  Even in the ninth hour, when we tried to get him to go to The Gambia for "JUST" three months, he refused and said he needed to be home within the next two months.  He agreed to stay in Kenya so that he and Mum could celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary on April 8th, on the condition that he would take the next flight to Sierra Leone.  On April 14th, he went home and climbed the long steps to the house his hands built.  He was able to tend to his affairs and on the Sunday before he passed away, he told Mum that all of his papers where in the briefcase he always kept close.  Just six weeks after he made it home, Dad closed his eyes and slept through his final breath.

Upon learning of Dad’s death, my tears were not just an outward expression of the pain in my heart.  They were also tears of gratitude and a purging of my mixed emotions.  Our Dad was not a perfect man, but he was the perfect Dad that God selected just for us.  Whether he knew it or not, my memory of his final acts is a memory of a man who honorably looked out for his family even in his final days.  I am consoled by that.

In the midst of our pain, we are so thankful for God's amazing grace.  A year after Mo left us and six months after Dad did, we are still learning how to navigate between a healthy form of mourning, remembrance and celebration, and pick ourselves up to live life fully, sans two integral members of our family.   We may flow clumsily between heartfelt laughter and unstoppable tears, but we will press on.  Our smiles are becoming less fleeting, much warmer.  Our voices are getting less shaky, a little stronger.  The sun appears a bit brighter every day and we are starting to feel Mo's warmth and see his smile in the beautiful rays and laugh at the sound of Dad’s early morning whistling heard through the birds in the air.  It is a work in progress so please bear with us.  

An American author and speaker, Iyanla Vanzant, said:  "Life continues after death as long as you remember the warmth of another's smile, the gentleness of their touch, the meaning they brought to your life. In your remembrance of another, death cannot overtake life."  Dad and Mo are so alive in our thoughts; in our mind's eye; in our many pictures of them; in recalling moments of absolute seriousness and joy, as well as the humor we found in some of the most silly and unexpected moments.

The amazing show of love and support from friends and family worldwide continue to sustain us. To everyone, thank you for your support of our family, especially for Mum.  She is an amazing woman and such a pillar of strength!  She served our Dad well all his days and adored the apple of her eye, her beloved “Baby Mo”!  She was so proud of Mo and misses him dearly.  Mum reflects the perfect example of the ultimate wife and mother described in Proverbs 31 as Dad, her husband, praised her, saying: “Many wives have done nobly, but you excel them all.”  However, we all know that even the toughest pillars can be swayed by forceful winds so please keep Mum lifted.  There has to be a rainbow perched in the sky for us and we will welcome the calm it holds for our family until we are all reunited in Heaven.

~~Vic~~