Letter from the Donor Recipient and My thoughts about Brendan's Bench
Brendan’s family received the first letter from one of the donor recipients this past weekend. A 59 year old woman who wrote to B’s family about the incredible gratitude she feels for getting a second chance at life. She is married, has children and grandchildren so her family is so very grateful. It was a beautiful letter! Yet a searingly painful letter to me. I’ve never felt both gratitude & agony at the same time. While I feel happy for the woman and her family and loved ones, I feel agony for Brendan’s family and friends, and I feel agony for Brendan’s mum who was the one and only hero in his life. I think of all the people whose lives are affected in a joyful way. Not only receiving Brendan’s organ donations but the trickle down effect it has on all the recipient's loved ones too! And everyone in each recipient’s life going forward! We will never truly know the lives that Brendan affected because of the anonymity of the Organ Donation Process.
I know from a distance people naturally think: “how beautiful! At least you can feel good that he lives on in others.” Doesn’t that sound rational? I know it does. However, when you’re up close to the grief and loss it doesn’t feel so good. Corinne wants her ‘baby boy’ back and we all want our dear friend and Love back. But death is a part of life and there it is; as simple as that. It sucks and we wish it weren’t true. And it comes as a shock because our western culture doesn’t like old age and death….But that’s a whole different story.
Corinne and I talked for a long time yesterday. I told her that I am still so devastated and yet I am fully aware that my pain and B’s friend’s pain, can never come close to hers and B’s family. How could it? In terms of the length of time being in Brendan’s life, my devastation doesn’t make sense. Corinne’s response touched my heart, she said “This just shows that it’s not the time but the intensity that made your love so strong.”
You’ve probably all heard the saying, “Grief is just love with no place to go.” That’s what has given me the determination to honor Brendan by jumping the hurdles we had to, in order to get this beautiful skateboard bench, this work of art, this manifestation of love that Payson had for Brendan. This love for Brendan has been contagious. People who have never met Brendan, yet meet us and see our love in action, can’t help but love Brendan for bringing out this love and inspiration. For me the past year, working on getting approval of the bench sculpture, has been confusing, thrilling, agonizingly slow, an amazing creative outlet, disappointing at times, scary as hell a lot of the time. l was indecisive, I ruminated endlessly, woke up quite a few nights with “great” ideas, only to realize, “No Wendy, that is not a great idea.” And in between all these actions I regularly dipped into the pit of grief and then rose up into that feeling of excitement and joy, and then back down into the pit of despair. You get the idea.
I met the best people in my life these past 18 months since Brendan died. Who would have thought a bunch of skaters, and lovers of skateboarders would change my life the way it has? Who would have thought a gathering of Brendan’s south shore childhood friends would teach me so much about life and love?? I watched as Payson McNett worked tirelessly on the bench. Love can be so creative can’t it? The memory of my visit to Payson and being taken to the back of the shop to the “concrete graveyard” where two replicas of Brendan’s bench sat. Payson explained, “These are the two benches I had made. I put them through the endurance test and they both failed but this 3rd one! This 3rd bench has passed the test!” Of course I’m paraphrasing Payson. He may not have said those exact words but that’s what I heard. That’s the dedication of love and friendship that Payson took within himself and placed into a jumble of concrete, aluminum and steel, and transformed into an alchemy of art!!
Just when you think a majority of humanity is pretty disappointing and you’re daily fed the horror and hopelessness of 24 hour “news” through social media; meeting “real” people who love and care as much as you do gives one hope and meaning in today’s troubled and hopeless world.
Please come out and honor Brendan September 7th. Come by and meet Brendan’s folks Al & Corinne Leung. They are the most amazing people I have ever met! Friends that have had the honor to meet and know them all agree.
Come by and meet Payson McNett and see his work of art. He will inspire you, you will have hope for humanity when you meet him. Meet my right-hand man: Kristof Tigyi, (Stem Cell Biologist & Lab Manager Haussler Lab At UCSC.) The co-author of the Proposal which we presented to the Parks and Recreation Commission, then on to the Santa Cruz City Council. And come meet the many others that have helped make this vision a reality.
I Just Loved You Because You're You
“I didn’t love you to seek revenge.
I didn’t love you out of loneliness or unhappiness.
I didn’t love you for any of the misguided reasons
that time might convince you I did.
I just loved you because you’re you.”
― Ranata Suzuki
By Corinne Leung: In Memory of Brendan for Derby Park Dedication: 9/7/19
Brendan’s Bench Dedication at Derby Park, Santa Cruz 9/7/19
“Life isn’t meant to be lived perfectly…but merely to be LIVED. Boldly, wildly, beautifully, uncertainly, imperfectly, magically, LIVED.”
On behalf of Adolfo, Brendan’s sister Bridget and her family, and myself we welcome you all here today for this ribbon cutting ceremony of Brendan’s Memorial Bench at Derby Park, renowned as one of the first skateboard parks in the world. We especially want to thank dear Wendy without whom this kernel of an idea never would have borne fruit.
I was introduced to Derby Park many years ago in a most unique way. With Brendan as my guide, we parked in a nearby company’s parking lot, did a bit of bushwacking, edged our way across a culvert, scampered up an embankment, crawled through a hole in the chain link fence then emerged at this spot. (My apologies to the Parks Department.) But this gives you a brief insight into Brendan’s character. Why arrive the conventional way when it could be turned into an adventure?
Life with Brendan was always an adventure, sometimes WAY too adventurous. We knew early on that we were in for a wild ride. I recall around the age of 3 when Brendan tossed blankets and dolls from Bridget’s Holly Hobby doll carriage, piled in some dirt and converted it into a worm farm. Carriage firmly in hand, he wandered the neighborhood turning over rocks and flagstones in search of specimens for his collection. He was always fascinated by nature and we still have his collection of bird nests and butterflies from those early years. And through his many years in Santa Cruz we were graced with treasures of rocks, shells, fossils and bones that he continued to amass, each a treasured memento that now hold even greater significance in our hearts.
Even at an early age, while most kids shied away from adults, he was comfortable having conversations with neighborhood parents stopping to say hello, asking about their day and was given the unofficial moniker of Mr. Mayor. But while growing up in an affluent town that measured success by wealth, social status, and power Brendan recognized early on that this was not his goal. He viewed life through a different lens which made his school years extremely challenging for himself, his teachers and especially his parents. I recall a conference with his fourth grade teacher telling me that when she asked him for his home address he told her the question was “too personal”.
Ignoring rules and testing limits often put him at odds with authority figures while attracting a legion of the unconventional: fellow skaters and rule breakers. For his sister Bridget, a classic overachiever, it was akin to being Ferris Bueller’s older sister.
Skateboarding was a refuge from a world that didn’t fit his personality but offered all the excitement and daring that he craved. Deep inside we always suspected he’d be California bound, the land of year-round skating, no snowy ice-bound months to contend with while waiting for spring to emerge, so at age 20 he left Massachusetts behind and headed west, eventually landing in Santa Cruz.
I recall the first time I came to visit, driving over the hill from San Jose, awe struck at my first sighting of redwoods, super cautious of the serpentine “17” and finally cruising into Santa Cruz, immediately feeling the magic of the California coast, meeting his west coast friends (family… ALL Brendan’s friends he considered as family) realizing that Brendan had found the perfect fit for his personality.
As he honed his skateboarding skills and gained his reputation in the professional skateboarding world we marveled at his determination along with the sacrifices he willingly made to pursue his profession. I’ll let others with true understanding extol his skateboarding skills but realize that the common thread throughout his entire life were the deep and lasting friendships he made and maintained. A true and remarkable achievement of its own.
While it was not the life we would have chosen for our son when he was a child, as that man/child, his dad and I came to truly appreciate and admire his tenacity in holding stubbornly and fiercely to his inner compass.
When we came to visit him or travelled on vacations together Brendan’s sense of adventure, fearlessness, and curiosity always added an extra dimension to the experience, venturing to edges, enticed by and ignoring “Do Not Enter” signs to explore further, and his ubiquitous disappearances, always reappearing when we were desperately wondering where he had wandered, if he was okay, and if he would return. And, at the end of our visits, when it was time to say goodbye, being the recipient of one of his bear-like hugs punctuating the moment, feeling his love and affection pour through. THOSE… we will miss the most.
In the meantime we’d like to thank everyone for keeping in touch, whether in person, swapping stories, sharing photos, by note, through the dreaded social media or simply sitting alongside us as we all learn to live with and process our collective loss.
My last memories of Brendan were of Christmas 2017 in Santa Cruz. We spent hours working in the garden, pulling weeds, repotting plants, while the glowing and crackling fire pit kept us toasty, Stevie Wonder providing the sound track to our day’s activities. With that sense of harmony I envisioned spending many more years, sharing those cherished moments together. I deliberately left behind a new pair of garden gloves knowing that I’d be back soon to spend many more days with him. Alas, it was not meant to be.
We love you Brendan and feel your presence with us constantly and know you’re here today enjoying a proper and lively skate session with all your extended family whom you dearly loved.
In closing I’d like to share this bittersweet poem, Meditation Before Kaddish, written by Merrit Malloy.
When I die give what’s left of me away
to children and old men that wait to die.
And if you need to cry,
cry for your brother walking the street beside you.
And when you need me, put your arms around anyone
and give them what you need to give me.
I want to leave you something,
something better than words or sounds.
Look for me in the people I’ve known or loved,
and if you cannot give me away,
at least let me live in your eyes and not in your mind.
You can love me best by letting hands touch hands,
and by letting go of children that need to be free.
Love doesn’t die, people do.
So, when all that’s left of me is love,
give me away.
My Beloved by Ibn ‘Arabi
Listen, O dearly beloved!
I am the reality of the world, the centre of the circumference,
I am the parts and the whole.
I am the will established between Heaven and Earth,
I have created perception in you only in order to be the object of My Perception.
If then you perceive Me, you perceive yourself.
But you cannot perceive Me through yourself.
It is through My Eyes that you see Me and see yourself,
Through your eyes you cannot see Me.
Dearly beloved!
I have called you so often and you have not heard Me.
I have shown Myself to you so often and you have not seen Me.
I have made Myself fragrance so often, and you have not smelled Me,
Savorous food, and you have not tasted Me.
Why can you not reach Me through the object you touch
Or breathe Me through sweet perfumes?
Why do you not see Me? Why do you not hear Me?
Why? Why? Why?
For you My delights surpass all other delights,
And the pleasure I procure you surpasses all other pleasures.
For you I am preferable to all other good things,
I am Beauty, I am Grace.
Love Me, love Me alone.
Love yourself in Me, in Me alone.
Attach yourself to Me,
No one is more inward than I.
Others love you for their own sakes,
I love you for yourself.
And you, you flee from Me.
Dearly beloved!
You cannot treat Me fairly,
For if you approach Me,
It is because I have approached you.
I am nearer to you than yourself,
Than your soul, than your breath.
Who among creatures
Would treat you as I do?
I am jealous of you, over you,
I want you to belong to no other,
Not even to yourself.
Be Mine, be for Me as you are in Me,
Though you are not even aware of it.
Dearly beloved!
Let us go toward Union.
And if we find the road
That leads to separation,
We will destroy separation.
Let us go hand in hand.
Let us enter the presence of Truth.
Let It be our judge
And imprint Its seal upon our union
For ever.
From: Henri Corbin. Creative Sufism ‘Alone with the Alone: Creative Imagination in the Sufism of Ibn Arabi, p. 174-75
I wish you knew how much........
“I wish you knew how much of you there is in everything I do.
It can be the smallest thing… trivial…. mundane.
It can be the smallest thing… trivial…. mundane.
But you’re there, under the surface of it somewhere.
I wish you knew how I carry you with me always…
I wish you knew how I carry you with me always…
Everywhere I go.”
- Ranata Suzuki
- Ranata Suzuki
I was looking at Payson's FB Maui photos where he is vacationing with his family and I spotted these old photos of Brendan. I'd only heard about Brendan's broken elbow years ago and his indifference to the pain.
My heart hurts to see him here so alive with just a broken elbow and the memories of his cool tattoos. I've never been a big tattoo fan but Brendan's tattoos were perfect to me.
I was reading a book by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross last night: "Life Lessons: Two Experts on Death & Dying Teach Us About the Mysteries of Life & Living". She suggested that you request your loved one to visit you in your dreams. So last night I lit a candle on the Chinese Ancestral Altar I set up in Brendan's memory. This time I asked him to visit me in my dreams. When I woke up this morning I was trying to remember if I had any dreams of Brendan, but I couldn't remember any.
I've been reminiscing about him all day. Of course I think about him every day anyway but more so today. I came across these pics. I keep thinking with time it won't hurt so bad, but I had heart gripping pain when I saw these photos. I was on my break at work and couldn't hold back the tears.
My thoughts: ....how can we live on this earth and take each other so for granted? We're all miracles and gifts aren't we? Think what you will about death and what happens after death, it doesn't matter to me. I know Brendan lives on. It only gets clearer to me that he continues to exist. He may not have turned up in my dream as I requested, but he turned up here didn't he?
Ghost Pipe (Monotropa uniflora)
Ghost Pipe (Monotropa uniflora)
“Calvin? Calvin, sweetheart?”
In the darkness Calvin heard the sound of Susie, his wife of fifty-three years. Calvin struggled to open his eyes. God, he was so tired and it took so much strength. Slowly, light replaced the darkness, and soon vision followed. At the foot of his bed stood his wife. Calvin wet his dry lips and spoke hoarsely, “Did… did you…. find him?”
“Yes dear,” Susie said smiling sadly, “He was in the attic. “
Susie reached into her big purse and brought out a soft, old, orange tiger doll. Calvin could not help but laugh. It had been so long. Too long.
“l washed him for you,” Susie said, her voice cracking a little as she laid the stuffed tiger next to her husband.
“Thank you, Susie.” Calvin said. A few moments passed as Calvin just laid on his hospital bed, his head turned to the side, staring at the old toy with nostalgia.
“Dear,” Calvin said finally. “Would you mind leaving me alone with Hobbes for a while? I would like to catch up with him.”
“All right,” Susie said. “I’ll get something to eat in the cafeteria. I’ll be back soon.” Susie kissed her husband on the forehead and turned to leave. With sudden but gentle strength Calvin stopped her. Lovingly he pulled his wife in and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. “l love you,” he said.
“And I love you,” said Susie. Susie turned and left. Calvin saw tears streaming from her face as she went out the door.
Calvin then turned to face his oldest and dearest friend. “Hello Hobbes. It’s been a long time hasn't it old pal?”
Hobbes was no longer a stuffed doll but the big furry old tiger Calvin had always remembered. “It sure has, Calvin.” said Hobbes. “You… haven’t changed a bit.” Calvin smiled.
“You've changed a lot.” Hobbes said sadly.
Calvin laughed, “Really? I haven’t noticed at all.”
There was a long pause. The sound of a clock ticking away the seconds rang throughout the sterile hospital room.
“So… you married Susie Derkins.” Hobbes said, finally smiling. “l knew you always liked her.”
“Shut up!” Calvin said, his smile bigger than ever.
“Tell me everything I missed. I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to!” Hobbes said, excited.
And so Calvin told him everything. He told him about how he and Susie fell in love in high school and had married after graduating from college, about his three kids and four grand-kids, how he turned Spaceman Spiff into one of the most popular sci-fi novels of the decade, and so on. After he told Hobbes all this there was another pregnant pause. “You know… I visited you in the attic a bunch of times.” Calvin said.
“l know.”
“But I couldn’t see you. All I saw was a stuffed animal.” Calvin’s voice was breaking and tears of regret started welling up in his eyes.
“You grew up old buddy.” said Hobbes.
“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry I broke my promise! I promised I wouldn’t grow up and that we’d be together forever!!” Calvin broke down and sobbed, hugging his best friend.
Hobbes stroked Calvin’s hair, or what little was left of it. “But you didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“We were always together…. In our dreams.”
“We were?”
“We were.”
“Hobbes?”
“Yeah, old buddy?”
“I’m so glad I got to see you like this… one last time…”
“Me too, Calvin. Me too.”
“Sweetheart?” Susie voice came from outside the door.
“Yes dear?” Calvin replied.
“Can I come in?” Susie asked.
“Just a minute.” Calvin turned to face Hobbes one last time.
“Goodbye Hobbes. Thanks… for everything…”
‘No, thank you Calvin.” Hobbes said.
Calvin turned back to the door and said, “You can come in now.”
Susie came in and said, “Look who’s come to visit you.”
Calvin’s children and grandchildren followed Susie into the room. The youngest grandchild ran past the rest of them and hugged Calvin in a hard, excited hug. “Grandpa!!” screamed the child in delight.
“Francis!” cried Calvin’s daughter, “Be gentle with your grandfather.”
Calvin’s daughter turned to her dad. “I’m sorry, Daddy. Francis never seems to behave these days. He just runs around making a mess and coming up with strange stories.”
Calvin laughed and said, “Well now! That sound just like me when I was his age.”
Calvin and his family chatted some more until a nurse said, “Sorry, but visiting hours are almost up.”
Calvin’s beloved family said good bye and promised to visit tomorrow. As they turned to leave Calvin said, “Francis. Come here for a second.”
Francis came over to his grandfather’s side, “What is it Gramps?”
Calvin reached over to the stuffed tiger on his bedside and held him out shakily to his grandson, who looked exactly as he did so many years ago.
“This is Hobbes. He was my best friend when I was your age. I want you to have him.”
‘He’s just a stuffed tiger.” Francis said, eyebrows raised.
Calvin laughed, “Well, let me tell you a secret.”
Francis leaned closer to Calvin. Calvin whispered, “If you catch him in a tiger trap using a tuna sandwich as bait he will turn into a real tiger.”
Francis gasped in delighted awe. Calvin continued, “Not only that he will be your best friend forever.”
“Wow! Thanks grandpa!” Francis said, hugging his grandpa tightly again.
“Francis! We need to go now!” Calvin’s daughter called.
“Okay!” Francis shouted back.
“Take good care of him.” Calvin said.
“l will.” Francis said before running off after the rest of the family.
Calvin laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. The time to go was close. He could feel it in his soul. Calvin tried to remember a quote he read in a book once. It said something about death being the next great adventure or something like that. His eyelids grew heavy and his breathing slowed. As he went deeper into his final sleep he heard Hobbes, as if he was right next to him at his bedside. “I’ll take care of him, Calvin…”
Calvin took his first step toward one more adventure and breathed his last with a grin on his face.
Source: This guy just changed the way we see Calvin and Hobbes
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