Love Is...Often Too Late ~ In Memory of Brandt

Brandt Ray Wilks

 There's a soulful, ghost of a line between hope and despair, between clinging to a tattered shred of faith, and releasing a grieving, broken heart to rest in peace.  It’s a blurry line that I, and others in my family, have come teeter tottering to the brink of, out of inconsolable disappointment with life. This morning, I wailed in agony for the loss of my nephew Brandt, for my own regrets that can never be undone, and for the never-ending stream of multi-generational consequences that have stalked our family.

If only I could have been there to help them through…if I’d taken them in to live with Tommy and me…if I’d muddied up my young, twenty-something life to make more of a difference. ‘If only’ echoed stone cold empty in my head as I sobbed uncontrollably in my friend’s arms this morning.  ‘If only’ didn’t help Aaron 14 months ago, and now, like a sickening déjà vu, I hear my mind screaming the same useless words for his brother Brandt.

Oh Brandt, little Brandt. I know you cherished Aaron who was so much more than your big brother, but a father, a mother, your protector, and your best friend.  He’s always watched over you and loved you, until last year when he broke your heart with his death.  I’m so sorry sweet boy, I’m so sorry for your pain. I’m sorry I failed to reach out more and that I didn’t help you find a way around the internal hell you endured.  If only...

Thank you, Brandt, for the compassion you always showed, for the way you bravely ministered back to Aaron the last year of his life. Thank you for your quiet attentiveness to help others sort through the memories after he died.  Thank you my precious nephew, for the comfort and hope you gave me last year…for the kisses on my head and the huge hugs you encircled me with when I cried.

Your strength and efforts to keep going while helping others through the chaos made such a difference to so many, and I never even told you.   And now I find myself speaking too late, when your life is no more, and my words sound more to me like a resounding gong, or a clanging symbol.  Love is…often too late.

To those of us grieving over the death of our dear Brandt, and to those who are reading these words in sympathy for our family. Please don’t wait one single moment more to show compassion and grace to family, friends, and strangers. Forgive those who have hurt you. Quit preaching, pointing fingers, and arguing about meaningless religious and doctrinal “issues.”  Release your regrets and embrace the present now, to make an eternal impact in the life of someone through love. Open the eyes of your heart to see another hurting soul teeter-tottering along that blurry line between life and death. Its time to simply, Be Jesus.

Aaron and Brandt

1 Corinthians 13: 1-7 If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. ² If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn’t love others, I would be nothing. ³ If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it;^[a] but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained nothing.

⁴ Love is...patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud ⁵ or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. ⁶ It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. ⁷ Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.