My Brother Ren Lyman

Ren was born on October 10th, 1967. Family legend holds that he was meant to come to our family. The story of Ren’s life on earth began well before he was born. Mom often told him the story of his coming to our family. She said he came by detour. When mom was pregnant with my sister Elizabeth, she was standing by our big picture window and looking out across the front lawn. There on the gravel in the driveway she saw in her mind’s eye a little boy toddling bow-legged across the gravel. He fell but was not deterred. Mama felt his pain when he fell and longed to help him. He stood up again on his own and continued and then the vision was gone.
Mom assumed the baby she was carrying would be this little boy she saw.
When Lizzie was born, Mama knew there was another baby waiting for her. She was forced to have a hysterectomy after giving birth to Liz, so she applied to adopt a baby through LDS social services. He was adopted when he was nine days old and Mama adored him. I was three years old when Ren came along. She always told him he came to our family by way of detour but he was meant to be ours. One of my earliest memories was the day Rennie was sealed to us in the temple. He was all dressed in white and placed on the alter and we knelt around him and I knew he was as much my brother as those who shared my DNA.
I don’t remember a time when Ren wasn’t a part of my life. He could stand in a corner when he was a few days old. He learned to walk…er run when he was nine months old. My memories of him include a freckled turned up nose, course, straight hair, thick, long eyelashes. A little boy who was confident in his strong bowlegged little boy body and in his mothers love. Liz and I had Mama cut our doll’s hair because in our minds, all babies were boys. After all, ours was!
When he was not much more than a baby, he wandered off and found an ant hill to play on. Ren was fascinated by bugs, as most little children are. He played with them but they turned on him. When Lizzie and I found him, little Rennie was jumping up and down on the ant hill. He was covered with angry ants from head to toe and the ants were biting him and he didn’t know enough to get away. Lizzie and I tried to help him but we couldn’t get him off of the ant hill without being hurt by the bugs. We were afraid but we got Mama. Mama rescued him. She lifted him into her arms and brushed off the ants and bathed the bites and wrapped Rennie in a blanket and held him in her arms while she gently explained to him that he was jumping on the ant’s house and they laughed at how silly he was to do that. She rocked him until he was asleep and then gently laid him in his little bed. Then she found her quarto (little Mexican guitar), and she wrote this song:
Never Never No not ever
stand on ant hills
that's not clever
never never no not ever
that's not how we do!

It wasn’t easy on him to be named “LoRENzo” because he couldn’t say his “R’s”. He stuck out his lower lip when he was sad. He caught an eighteen inch catfish when he was four years old. Ren was my buddy in fun. When I couldn’t get Lizzie to join me in an adventure, I knew Rennie would. We sledded and ice skated in the winter and swam and flew kites in the summer. He was always moving. He seemed compelled to be moving and I loved that about him. We would often have swimming races. I beat him in races until I was about 12. He was nine when he started beating me to the bouy. He was amazing to watch on his bicycle. He spent hours making ramps and jumping off them. We all marveled at his ability to turn a simple bike into a springboard and gymnastic apperatice! Mom and I would sit on the porch and cheer at his ability to make a bike or motorcycle fly. Mama’s breath would catch when he would stand on his hands and ride by or do a wheelee for almost a block or some other dangerous move. He made anything athletic look easy.
Someone asked me the other day if Ren had a lot of baggage. I said, “No, he didn’t have any baggage. He had a Uhaul trailer he was lugging behind him throughout his life.”

Now my brother was a pretty tough guy. He lugged that trailer by himself for 42 years. There were those of you who helped him pull it, but as independent as he was, he didn’t accept much help. He was strong physically. He was gifted when it came to sports. We went skiing together last February. He hadn’t skied in 20 years and wore jeans. He was such a competent athlete he could do that. But he wasn’t strong enough to handle everything on his own.

A story is told about a dream a woman had whose brother committed suicide. She dreamed she was waiting for him in the designated meeting place and she had to wait a while for him to arrive. When he finally got there, he told her he thought he was taking a short cut but it only took him longer to get where he was going but he DID get there. He got home. It took a while, but he made it Home. (home with a capital H).

I believe, that just like Ren’s ant hill experience as a little boy, he was overpowered by the things of this world and couldn’t figure out how to get away from the stinging bites of despair. The Savior Jesus Christ often referred to himself in terms of a nurturer. He called himself a mother hen who would gather her chicks under his wing.

If there is someone you love who is struggling with addiction, you need to understand that you cannot rescue him. The reason AA works is because people turn their lives over to a “Higher Power”. When we attempt to be that power, we only get in the way of our loved one’s personal relationship with Jesus Christ. That doesn’t mean we ever give up. Years ago, President Thomas S. Monson challenged us to never give up on a loved one. My mind immediately went to my brother, Ren. I will never give up on him. I have not given up. He will be whole and I will be with him again. I know that. I will never give up on anyone I love. I am not capable of it. My hope for them is eternal. Hy hope is in Christ who loves them more completely than I do. He loves my brother Ren and is caring for him now in a way I could not.

Brenlee woke up early on the morning of Ren’s death, before most of us knew he was missing. She went into her mom’s room and asked, “Mommy, what is dead?” Holly explained death as when your body can’t breath and move anymore. I want to further explain to Brenlee the concept of death.

Here is Ren’s baseball glove. My hand represents Ren’s spirit. Before he came to earth, he was in heaven with God and Jesus. When he came to earth, (I slipped my hand in Ren’s glove), his spirit entered his physical body. He was very good at getting his physical body to do wonderful things. It could run very fast and ride motorcycles and play ball and pool and darts. It was very good at bowling, skiing, horseshoes and pretty much any sport he tried. When Ren died, (I slipped my hand out of the glove), his spirit returned home to heaven.

Brenlee, at the age of four, understands her Daddy’s eternal nature without any of us having to explain it to her in depth. We were driving around the other day, Brenlee and I, and I told her, “Brenlee, your daddy loved you very much.” She replied, “He still does”.

The other night I fell asleep thinking about Rennie as a little boy on that ant hill. I dreamed that bugs, spiders and other creepy crawling things were everywhere. They were hiding in ordinary things and were taking over. I woke with a firm understanding that things had taken over Ren’s life…his spiritual life, much the way the ants took him over physically when he was a little boy.
I thought about his little boy body being attacked by ants much the way his little boy soul was attacked and overcome by the darkness and demons. All of us are simply devastated. But Ren was overcome. He did not do this to us. He just thought he was taking a shortcut.
Please don’t give up on someone you love. I have not given up on Ren. I know with all of my heart that he is being cared for now. Just like Mama bathed him and wrapped him in a blanket, he is being held in the arms of his Savior. He is finally being comforted by the only power that truly comforts. Like Mama did, I think Jesus is laughing with him over the silly mistakes, but he is also unhooking the Uhaul trailer and tossing it away.


I love my brother. I always will. I’m so thankful for the knowledge I have that he is not judged by a vengeful God, but by a loving father who knows of his trials.

“It should … be remembered that judgment is the Lord’s; he knows the thoughts, intents, and abilities of men; and he in his infinite wisdom will make all things right in due course.” Bruce R. Mckonkie


There is no one to blame for Ren’s death. Our quest now will be to be present in the lives of his daughters. Ren won’t be here to bear their burdens. We will best honor him by allowing God to heal our hearts so our energy can be channeled in loving his daughters.