When the Bells Rang: A Double Homegoing on February 25, 2011

When the Bells 🔔 Rang: A Double Homegoing on February 25, 2011

I never thought this day would come—the day I could openly speak about what happened on February 25, 2011. But here I am.

On that day, my siblings and I said our farewells and our “see you laters” to two of the most remarkable parental figures in our lives: our mother, Barbara Jean Jackson Brown, and our grandfather, Ezell Howard Taft Jackson.

They both transitioned on the same day.
One in the morning.
One in the afternoon.

Even fifteen years later, words can hardly capture the depth of that loss.

Our Grandfather: The Man We Thought Would Live Forever

Granddad was 100 years old.

And yet… we truly did not imagine him ever dying.

For all intents and purposes, he was an independent, God-fearing man who:

• Attended church faithfully

• Supported and helped his family and friends

• Intermingled in his community

• Participated in senior aerobics

• Drove himself around town

• Lived on his own

He was strong. Vibrant. Present.

To me, he was my superhero. Marvel heroes had nothing on him. 😂He was one of a kind—they don’t make ’em like him anymore.

The Accident That Changed Everything

Shortly before he passed, he was involved in a horrific car accident. No one could believe what happened next—a 100-year-old man opened the car door and stepped out as if nothing had occurred.

Physically, he appeared fine.

But the accident took a toll that he would never fully recover from.

When I visited him in the hospital, I sensed something was shifting. He was shaking hands with people I could not see. Laughing and crying at the same time. It was as though he was greeting loved ones who had gone before him—perhaps even his wife of 75 years.

I didn’t question it.
I didn’t interrupt it.

There was a joy in that room that was unspeakable.

Our Mother: The Best Mother Ever

Our mother was 71 years old and battling stage 4 breast cancer, which had initially been misdiagnosed. In our hearts, we wanted to believe she would overcome it. But eventually, we knew the outcome would be different.

The day she went into surgery was the day I realized she was no longer the same.

Before surgery, we were laughing and talking, just me and her.
After surgery, her eyes were closed. She was barely responsive.

Hospice eventually took over her care.

Waiting for Her Last Son

The day before she passed, we all sensed that she knew one of her children was not present. Three of us were there, but her youngest son was still in California.

We made arrangements for him to fly to New York immediately.

We absolutely believe she held on until he arrived—because she passed the very next day.

But not before I could tell her:

• She was the BEST mother any child could ever have.

• She was the BEST mother EVER.

• It was okay for her to rest.

• We would be alright.

Those words matter. I will forever be grateful I had the chance to say them.

The Doorbell

After she passed, we returned to our mother’s home in Queens, New York. My sister and I were exhausted. We found a quiet place to rest.

Then the doorbell rang.

We got up to answer it.

No one was there.

It rang again. And again. No one was there.

Three times.

I looked at my sister and said, “That’s Mom letting us know she received her wings.”

How do I know? Because in the movie It's a Wonderful Life, Clarence the angel says:

“Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.”

We believed that day, our mother and grandfather were no exception.

A Legacy of Faith and a Heavenly Reunion

They were parents grounded in faith—steadfast, prayerful, and devoted to God.

Our mother, with her infectious laugh and gentle, lighthearted spirit, embodied beauty, grace, and selfless love. She had a way of making everyone feel seen and cherished. We believe that when she entered eternity, she was welcomed by our father, Walter Benjamin Brown Sr., her husband of 37 years, standing there with open arms.

And just as surely, we believe our grandmother, Beaufort Miller Jackson, after 73 years of marriage, was there to receive our grandfather and usher him home.

What a reunion that must have been.

A sacred homecoming.

A gathering filled with familiar faces—those they loved on earth and others they would now come to know in glory.

Their faith was their anchor in life, and it became their victory in death.

And while they gave us countless gifts—love, wisdom, strength, and example—the greatest gift they ever gave us was introducing us to Jesus Christ.

Choosing Remembrance Over Grief

We could dwell on what was lost.

But instead, we choose to remember:

• Their faith

• Their resilience

• Their laughter

• Their love

• Their legacy

The best way to honor them is to live fully.

To love deeply.
To serve faithfully.
To cherish family.

They remain ingrained in our hearts and spirits until we meet again.

Loving them now and into Eternity. 🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️