Remembering Joseph

In loving memory of Joseph Nathan Colyer.
March 19, 1996 - September 14, 2021.


I have some difficult and sad news to share. My nephew Joseph, who had been living in Chicago, has passed away. He was the beloved older son of my brother Robin and his wife Cindy. Joseph was 25 years old.

I learned about it last Tuesday night. The phone rang and my little sister was on the line: "Pick up, pick up, PICK UP!" The news she shared made me catch my breath. She said that Joseph was dead. What?

Of course, at first, we all thought and hoped there had been some big mistake. That it had been an accident, or that it was someone else who had died. That it wasn't Joseph at all; and that eventually, he would come forward, alive and well. But facts were confirmed. Our hopes were dashed. It was him. And as the details emerged, it became apparent that this was the pathway he had chosen.

Joseph battled bipolar depression for years. The depths of his struggles were not obvious to all of us, but when he was up, he was very up. When he was down, he was very down. He had been doctoring for it, and taking medication. There had been an appointment set up for the next day with his doctor, but Joseph was not alive by then. There had been a good friend who went out to be with him, trying to help him get through it, but in the end, she was not able to save him.

These days - some of the worst of my family's entire life - have been a blur since then. My brother and his wife went to Chicago to handle things, bring Joseph's stuff back in U-Hauls, arrange for his body to be shipped back home. And on this day, we held his funeral. This is a picture of a photo display Joe's mother put together; there were a half-dozen of these around the church.

The church was packed and standing room only. For Joseph and his family are well loved, and they were heavily involved with Scouting. Both Joseph and his younger brother Cameron became Eagle Scouts. There were many people who wanted to share stories and express their love and concern. People spoke. I could not. There was a big lump of sawdust in my throat. I cried through the whole thing.

I remember the first time I held Joseph. He was only a few days old, and my brother (a brand new dad) had just fed him his bottle. I got to hold Joseph after that, and of course, he barfed all over my shirt. I ended up having to change into one of my dad's t-shirts. We all still laugh about that: how Joseph "baptized" me upon our first meeting. (Somebody should warn a girl before handing her a "loaded" baby.)

I was his 80s Auntie, and I like to think that I was at least partially responsible for inspiring in Joseph his keen fashion sense. He was known for his utilization of unexpected fashion choices in unique ways. He bucked gender conventions. He wore what he wanted, and as an 80s gal (and you should have seen some of the things I wore back in my heyday - hello, pink hair, ripped tops, go-go boots, and neon day-glo), I can totally respect that.

The pastor, a wonderful woman, who cried and laughed her way through the service, spoke some important truths. That our God is a God of big love, and that his love will never leave us, regardless of any choice we make in life. His all-encompassing love stays with us and brings us Home, regardless of who we love, how we dress, how we die. No exceptions.

Joseph is at peace now, and so we commend him to his Maker, with great love, with gratitude, and with broken hearts.

It is my tradition to include a soundtrack song with my blips, and this is my choice for this day: Johnny Cash, with Hurt.

Link: Joseph's obituary online