(PUEBLO WEST, Colo.) — The holidays can be a time of togetherness, a time spent with loved ones, and a time of peace, but for those who’ve lost those closest to them, the brightness of the holidays can quickly dim, as they remember what once was and deeply miss what used to be.
For Charlene Bradley, this rings true—and not the normal sounds around the holidays or church bells ringing around Christmas time—but the sounds of quiet, as memories of her brother seep through even the brightest of days.
“I got a call that he had died, that he had been killed in an accident.”
This day is a dark one.
“And it’s just really hard to think that I’ll never hear his voice again.”
A day that will forever remain a vivid memory, a day that changed a lifetime.
“He was so close to home. He was just going to the store to get ice cream on a little neighborhood road with double yellow lines.”
The day, the life of her brother, 64-year-old Arthur Reece, was taken after a tragic, head-on crash in Pueblo West on Dec. 9.
“I think what’s so sad is people say, ‘Oh, well, he was older.’ He wasn’t older. You never grow old inside.”
The other driver, a fugitive, was captured on Jan. 10. While the arrest comes as a relief, the sounds of comfort just don’t quite seem to ease the pain—the quiet of loss.
“He [the other driver] stole his life. That’s how I feel. He stole my brother from his wife, from his children, from his grandchildren, from his sister and this is the part that’s so upsetting—his wife is lost,” Bradley cried. “Her every day is gone.”
She knows this pain.
“Seven years ago, my husband suddenly passed. He went into cardiac arrest.”
Losing her best friend, the one she spent most of her days with—this heartbreak, she understands.
“I mean, this is my brother and I am crushed. But I know as a widow what it’s like losing your spouse.”
She is now remembering her brother as a good Samaritan, someone who would always help no matter what—even the person accused of taking his life.
“If it would have been that guy on the side of the road, my brother would have stopped and helped him,” Bradley said.
Art, as she calls him, loved animals, too.
“His dog that he was super close to, Harper, she went down really fast after my brother died and she had to be put down 11 days later,” Bradley recalled. “Her person wasn’t there anymore.”
But she knows he’s looking down.
“He would tell me that he’s with my mom and dad, and my sister, and he’s not in pain. And he’s probably saying he’s not angry,” said Bradley. “He would want me to look after his wife, to help her get through this. And he would probably say, you know, I’ll see you again.”
Remembered always, for what he was.
“Just a wonderful husband, father, brother, stepfather, grandfather, and he just would have helped anyone.”
The final words she would write to him as she said goodbye—”Until we meet again, brother.”
