The beginning

It began in October of 2010, I got a phone call saying my mom had been taken to the hospital because they thought she might of had a stroke, they kept her for a few days and then left her come home. On Nov. 6th, her boyfriend took her to the hospital, were she was admitted to the hospital once again because she spiked a fever of a 106, they kept her in isolation for a few days and did tests, they found what they said was a rare pneumonia that only 1% of the population gets, called BOOP. She then went to a rehab because of the tests, sickness and hospital stay, she lost her strength, she spent Thanksgiving in the rehab… Which she did not like at all! She was home by Christmas, by the end of Christmas she was back in the hospital and was there until after the New Year. On January 17th she got news that her boyfriend was hit by a train and killed! From there her health really took a turn for the worst and she was in and out of hospitals and rehabs. She came out of a rehab after the 4th of July and stayed with her brother and his wife for a short time before she was back in the hospital to have her leg amputated because she was diabetic and had gangrene. She did very well with the leg amputation and went to a rehab once again. On Aug. 6th her sister threw her a birthday party in the rehab for her. On Aug. 8th she went in to the hospital for an outpatient surgery to have 2 of her toes amputated on her left foot. My family and I went in to visit on Aug. 9th and she was in good spirits, laughing, smiling, and telling us she was going home. On the morning of Aug. 10th around 6:00 a.m. my doorbell rang, and there stood a policeman. He told me it concerned my mom and I was to call the rehab. I then knew she had passed even before I called them. I had called my one sister and she did not take it well! I then called my moms brother and sister’s, my moms one sister then went to my moms home to tell my lil sister and brother. After our moms death I and my siblings struggled because she was all we had other then each other. My lil brother and sister both struggled the most because they both lived in or around her home. Four weeks after my moms death, my husbands my passed, after losing a short battle with cancer. However we all pulled together and made the best of what we had. I did Thanksgiving dinner that year, and my sister did Christmas Eve. We had a great time Christmas Eve as a family, we had nerf gun battles, told stories, and such. All was great through out December and January. On January 28th 2012, my brother and sister’s and I went out with friends and spent time together. It was the 2nd best night I had with my siblings, but it all came to a holt on Feb. 10th 2012 when my only baby brother was murdered. Had a very odd morning the morning of Feb. 10th and I thought maybe it was because of the 6 months death of my mom, and I could not sleep. I finally laid down and my cell phone vibrated, and it was my youngest sister. My hands started shaking when I noticed it was her because I always worried if something happened when I get calls that early in the morning. When she picked up she said her butt must have dialed my number, so I laid back down and 15-20 minutes later my phone vibrated again. I didn’t answer because I just thought she dialed my number again by accident. After my phone stopped I heard my husbands phone go off, he answered it and it was my other sister. I then knew something was wrong, and I had this feeling it was my brother, he hung up and looked at me and told me my brother had been shot. I thought, okay, he just caught a bullet in the arm or the leg, and he was at the hospital…. NOPE! My husband had come downstairs where I had been on the phone with my Aunt, and he said he was dead! It was then when my body went numb and I hit the floor. I was screaming and crying, but it was one of those no tears crying. My husband then took me down to my Aunts where my sister’s were. When I got there I was vomiting, hyperventilating, and have anxiety and panic attacks. After not settling down, my Uncle took me in to the ER. They did tests and kept a watch on me for a while. I was then released and sent me home with anxiety medication. A few days later I went to see a Psychologist, and I was diagnosed with PTSD and they put me on depression medication along with my anxiety medication. It is a morning I will NEVER forget! I got involved with Years of Tears, a non profit organization here in Berks County of Pa, to help other victims and their families. It will be 5 months of his murder on July 10th and I many people tell me I should move on and not dwell, it’s easier said then done, those people don’t realize that this is a nightmare that I may not wake up from for a long, long time, especially since there are hearings and trials. I do know one things for sure, and that I will be my brothers voice, from here on out! It has been a year and eight days since I lost my only brother to homicide, and I am now the secretary of Years of Tears.

Left alone

It's February 14th 2013, Valentine's Day. It's been a year and four days since my only brother's death, and the second Valentine's Day without him. Although it has been a year that he is gone, I am still getting cards, messages, how are you? and etc. There are times when that's nice... I guess, and I know other's care and I am grateful for that! However, there comes a time when it gets to be a little much, and people grieve differently. I myself am one of those grievers who like to a lot of times be left alone, and take in all that's happened. I'm not the type to want to be smothered with cards, flowers, messages, phone calls, etc. I've never have really been the affectionate type from the time I was little. I always had a hard time saying I love you, giving hugs, and giving kisses, and I think to myself maybe that's why I feel Valentine's Day is so overrated at times. I know that not saying I love you always bother my sister Tara, and it was nothing toward her or anyone else's in my family. My mom knew I always had a hard time showing my affection, but she always knew in her heart that I loved her, my dad/dads, my siblings, and the rest of my family. It wasn't until my mom got sick that I started to use those words.... I love you! I mean, I've always told my husband and kids I loved them, but those were the only people I could say it to. Even now at times my daughter or husband will come over and hug me, and at times I tend to freeze up and not hug them back, at least the way they may want me to. I've always felt maybe it was because I was born sickly and always in and out of hospitals, and never knew if I was going to live from day to day. Why get attached to something or somebody, you may not wake up to see again, is what I've always thought. I know some may say that sounds selfish of me, and maybe it is, but those were always my feelings growing up sickly. I at times get messages on Facebook asking me how I am, and such, and I just think to myself.... I just want to be left alone. I lay in my bed every morning just walking down memory lane growing up with my brother and siblings. I see his face from baby, to toddler, to little boy, to young man, and that's all I want to see at the time. I see his smile the very last time I saw it, it was so bright and electrifying, a smile no other man in the bar that night. I lay there and hear his contagious laugh, and the sound of his voice from a distance, and that's all I want to do. I tend to do this for hours, and even a whole day. It may not be what some people should think I should be doing, but that's my way of spending time with him.... Silly, right? I thought after a year I would feel different then when my brother as first murdered, but I don't. It seems as if it's a pain that will never go away, and it is a death that will never leave your mind. Of all the painful things I went through in my life, losing my brother was the most painful.

Tim's Years of Tears page

http://www.yearsoftears.org/timreber.html

One year

On Feb. 10th 2012, you were taken away from me, due to homicide. It was the most devastating news a sister had to endure! It's been a year today and it seems as if it's still surreal, something no sister can fathom, if they've never been down this road. To this day is still ask why and search for answers, and hopes that you will someday answer these questions for me. I know there are many out there who have different views on grieving, and think there should be a time limit, but for me there is no time limit. I've spent the year trying to help myself to grieve in a healthy and positive way. I've made quilts out of your clothes, I've made scrapbook of your pictures, and yes, I've even turned to learning about the spiritual world and the work of mediums, but, hey there are worse things I could be doing, to work through my pain. There isn't a day and night that goes by that I don't think of you! You will always be my one and only baby brother, and I will ALWAYS carry you in my heart! I love you to the moon and back!!!

The winning quilt

I always liked to do crafts from the time I was younger, but never thought of myself as a crafty person. I  started scrapbooking a few years back and have gotten pretty good at it, so I think. I've made several scrapbooks of my children, vacations, and such. My children love looking through them and I must say, so do I. Last February when my brother was tragically taken from us, my sister's and I divided his belongs out amongst us, which contained shoes, kitchenware, blankets, pillows, clothes, and even kittens(lol) I got the bonus and ended up with the two kittens, Smokey and Mojo. He didn't have much, but he had enough clothes that three out of four of his sister's got a good hand full of clothes. My sister Tracy and I getting most of them because we had older boys, that we thought might be able to use them. My son picked out a few things he liked out of the big bag of clothes of his I had, but really couldn't use any of the work clothes, me looking at this big bag of clothes thinking, whatever am I going to do with all these clothes, and yet not wanting to give them to anyone else that might be able to use them, because they were my brother's of course. I couldn't bare the thought of just storing them down in the basement, then it hit me! I remember hearing of people having memory quilts made out of lost loved ones clothes, but then to send it out to have one made would probably be a pretty penny! Then I remember my aunt just started making quilts, so I asked if I bought the fabric and gave her the clothes, and paid her to make one, would she, but then the wheels in my head start spinning. If she showed me how to make a memory quilt, just maybe I'd be able to make it myself, not only would this quilt be made out of my beloved brother's clothes, but me who touched, smelled, and designed the quilt. It was I who would add the blood, sweat, and tears to the quilt. It would be forever tainted with my blood, sweat, and tears, and I assure you, there was a lot of tears soaking into the quilt as I was making it, but was I capable? Sure I started working in a sewing factory at the tender age of sixteen, but I've never in my life made a quilt! So, off to JoAnn fabric store I went and picked out the fabric that I found most to symbolize my brother. My brother trimmed trees for a living and loved his job, so, I picked out a fabric that resembled tree bark for the back, and for the front a marbly brown/beige fabric, it had to fabrics that symbolized the outdoors in some way. There was no finding fabric with trees on it, until months later after the quilt was done, then I found fabric with trees everywhere I went! Every Tuesday during that summer my aunt and I would have a sewing day. We'd have snacks, wine, and adult conversation, while both our younger girls had each other to play with and swim with. The first step to making the quilt was I had to choose which clothes I wanted of my brothers to make the quilt, that was a very hard decision in it's self, because I wanted to use every single piece of clothes I had of his! This was to be a queen/king size bed quilt, not a eight man tent(lol). The next thing I had to do was take the clothes I was using and cut them out into 12x12 square, which was also hard because now I felt as if I was destroying my brother's belongings, and thinking this should not be, he should be wearing these clothes, as I was getting flashbacks of me remembering him wearing all these clothes that I am now destroying! Once I got passed that I worked day and night on this quilt for my own selfish reasons. I wanted it done so that I could display it on my bed as soon as possible, so I could be wrapped in his love and warmth each night I went to bed. I started the quilt in the middle of June and by the first week of August it had been finished. I displayed it on my Facebook wall and a girl we went to school with, suggest I enter into our school community fair, and I did. I wasn't looking to win anything for it. I simply wanted to display it for all Oley Valley High students and the residents, in memory of my brother, a student who graduated from Oley Valley High. The community fair runs a Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. We had court the Thursday the fair opened, so after court my husband, my sister, and I went down to the fair for lunch and of course to check out the quilt! To my surprise it had a blue first place ribbon pinned to it! The quilts fame or mine didn't end there! Some following weeks later after the community fair, I got a call from out local newspaper about wanting to do a story on this quilt. The story in the newspaper was titled.... Thread of brother's life goes on in sister's quilt. On November 18, 2012 I received an envelope in the mail from House Of Representatives in Harrisburg, Pa, It had a laminated picture that was in the local newspaper of me with the quilt, and a little note from State Representative Mark Gillen. It reads... Brooke, You really inspired others by the very public way you choose to memorialize your brother Tim. I am very sorry for your loss but I am pleased that you have risen to such a positive productive place, please continue to communicate with our office on issues important to you.                                                                                                                                                                          Mark                                                                                                                                                                   I will honestly say that after my brother was murdered, I had a lot of anger, hate, bitterness, etc. Making this quilt seem to be a little help therapeutic wise, don't get me wrong it will be a year next Sunday and there is still anger, hate, bitterness, etc and that will never go away. For anyone who's lost a loved one to murder! Those who have, have to find a good outlet to deal with the way we lost our loved ones, and the emotions that come along with it. Within this year I have made four memory quilts for family members out of our brother's clothes, and I plan to continue to make the memory quilts and scrapbooks.

The other side

I have always been fascinated by what really happens to loved ones who pass on. I believe in Heaven, hell, and even purgatory, but I also believe that after death a lost loved one can still communicate with you. Some may not agree, and believe that once you've passed, you're gone, and if a lost loved one is communicating with you in any way, it's because they are not at rest, and I don't believe that either. I believe that after we are gone, our body is dead, but our spirit roams among the living. I know to some it may sounds absurd, and many may think that I've lost my mind. When I was younger my mom was able to communicate with loved ones who passed over. Some say she was nuts, some believe it was of medication she took, and some even said she was evil and going to hell, and that it's the work of the devil, because she could communicate with the dead, and knew things before they happened, to me the work of the devil doesn't prepare you, about a loved one that you need to take caution of.  I've heard many stories from her about her communicating with her grandmother who passed on. Not only in dreams, did she communicate with her, but she'd also see reflections of her in windows and communicate with her, in the reflections. There are two stories I remember so vividly, and maybe because they were about me. My mom was eighteen and pregnant with me and her grandmother came to her, and prepared her that the child she was carrying, there was something medically wrong with the child. She told her older sister about this the following day, and her sister called my moms doctor in angry that he would tell her sister something like this! The doctor assured my moms sister that he did not tell her any such thing, and that it was too soon to know if anything was wrong with the baby. Sure enough when I was born, they had to rush me to the Children's Hospital of Philly, because I was born with a congenital heart defect. They had to do open heart surgery on me two days later, as my mom was miles aways from me in another hospital, she saw the refection of her deceased grandmother in the hospital window. Her grandmother told her that the surgery went well, a few seconds later the Children's hospital called to tell her everything went well, and I was doing fine. So I am living proof that we can communicate with the afterlife. Even though the afterlife has always fascinated me, I never once thought about seeing a psychic or medium, until that fateful day my only thirty one year old baby brother was murdered. It will be a year on Feb. 10th that my life has changed and I still yearn to talk to him, hear his laugh, and just communicate with him, even if it's just to tell me he is okay and happy. I believe I have gotten many signs from him and I believe his spirit is still here among us, but it's as if I need someone with the ability to be able to communicate with afterlife, to tell me he is fine and happy, for me to have closure and be at peace with his death. Not saying that after that, I wouldn't want anymore signs from him, because I would still like and need those little signs and reminders that he is still with me. Does that make me crazy? No. Does this make me evil or that I'm going to hell? No. Do I believe if this is happening that he is not at peace? No. Do I believe that I or anyone else that feels this way, is working or in the hands of the devil? No. I believe that all things are possible, weather it be communicating with the dead, believing in UFO's, or other life forms on other planets, and I do believe with a clear, opened mind anything and all things are possible. In this picture you will see a green letter t. Green was my brother's favorite color and the letter t is the initial of his first name. One night I was reading a book about psychic ability on my kindle, and in the middle of the book. Out of nowhere I spotted a green letter t, and it was the ONLY green letter t! It wasn't as if it was in the beginning of a sentence or paragraph, but smack dap in the middle of the book. Do I believe that was a sign from my brother? Yes. I believe we can feel and know our loved ones who passed on are with us in many different ways, you just have to be opened to believing it!

Guilty Plea

Yesterday on January 28, 2013 Robert W. Pfanders Jr. pleaded guilty of 3rd degree murder, of the murder of my brother Timothy B. Reber. He was sentenced to fifteen to forty years in a state prison. The courtroom was packed, and only seven of those people in the courtroom, being family and friends of the defendants. The majority of the people, were family and friends of the victims, there was not a dry eye in that courtroom! You could hear the sobs, and bawling from in front and behind you as you sat and listen to the DA presenting her evidence, the defense lawyer present his evidence, and the testimonies from us(Tim’s sister’s and father). This is the article from this mornings newspaper                                                                       The father of a 31-year-old man killed in February got right to the point Monday when confronting the man being sentenced for his son’s slaying.

“I feel vindictiveness toward you,” Timothy M. Reber Sr. angrily said to Robert W. Pfanders Jr.

Pfanders was later sentenced to 15 to 40 years in state prison for third-degree murder in the Feb. 10 slaying of Reber’s son, Timothy B. Reber Jr. of Alsace Township.

“My only son was shot,” Reber of Exeter Township said to Pfanders, 26, of Boyertown. “I loved my only son. The hurt will never go away. I have trouble talking about it. He will never be forgotten by anyone.” 

A deputy sheriff immediately escorted Reber to his seat in Judge Paul M. Yatron’s packed courtroom.

The victim’s relatives showed photographs of him, describing him as a kind man with a great sense of humor.

The victim’s three sisters, Brittany Reber, 26, and Tracy Kemp, 36, both of Temple, and Brooke Matthews, 40, of Exeter Township, wept as they shared how they suffer nightmares and other health issues over his slaying.

Kemp looked at Pfanders and told him an angel is watching over her family.

“He (her brother) has a laugh that is contagious,” she said. “At his memorial there were over 300 guests. I am hurt and angry. I think of the man who took my brother’s life with sadness.”

Matthews testified she has nightmares about how her brother was murdered.

“In our family he was our hero,” she said. “I feel as though I am constantly ill. I feel as though I have to shelter my children.”

Brittany Reber said life has been a nightmare since her brother was killed.

“Did he suffer?” she asked. “I can’t get away from this overwhelming feeling of sadness. He was far too young to die.”                                                                                                           We heard testimonies from Pfanders himself and Pfanders mother, Pfanders mother stating that he came home and said something horrible had happened, and what if he had kids, in response to that Pfanders mother then gave him NyQuil and told him to sleep on it. What mother gives a child NyQuil after they’ve confessed to a murder, and then tells them to sleep on it? I know I should not judge a mother’s actions, because I know myself I don’t know what I’d do if any of my children would confess to a murder, but I’m pretty sure I would want my child to take full responsibility for their action for the victims family and loved ones. The DA said there will be no amount of time that could ever spare the pain we have and will endure for the rest of our lives, but to risk the possibility that he could have only been found guilty of manslaughter, and only served one to five years in prison, would have been damaging and unfair to us(Tim’s family). I take pleasure in knowing he will be in a state prison, for at least fifteen years, and that I do have the right to write into the parole board, if in fifteen years he is released, as to why he should not be. I am thankful to all the family and friends who support us, and those who took time out of their mornings and day, to be at the hearings and trial with the family. I am very thankful to the DA and her team members, for doing what they thought was best and right for the our family. I am also thankful for all the time and help our victims advocate put in to our family. I send my sincere thanks to the Honorable Judge Yatron. I now leave you with this! Yesterday was a pretty intense and emotional day for our family, but he is now sentenced and hopefully we can move on with our lives. It will not heal or mend our broken hearts…. ever! It is something we will never fathom or get over! It is not something that can be cured or repaired with a band aid! We will always have Tim in our hearts, mind, memories, and we will live our life through him. He will be our angel looking over and out for us, and I do believe he will always give us some sort of little signs that he is still with us.