Seeing The Good

SEEING THE GOOD

I haven't been here for a while. It's not that I don't have more to say, but perhaps I've needed time...

Today I am writing about Brandon again. I was recently informed of someone speaking in a sacrament meeting about service. In his talk, he spoke of my little brother, and the example Brandon had been to him. I just received the talk, and it has caused me to reflect on life.

I always knew the things that this person shared of Brandon, but I was too busy to really "see". As I have contemplated his divine nature, I have wondered if I am neglecting an important portion of loving the people around me--if I am not taking the time to bask in their light. I think--as a mom, it is easy to always correct my children with behaviors that need correcting, and easy to neglect to praise the good. I think I am missing the process of truly seeing others as God sees them. I think I have been defining others by their trials rather than their strengths, and I need to start defining others by their strengths and not by their trials--my children included. 

I remember on Brandon's frequent visits to my home, him taking a multitude of pills. I remember watching him as he counted out the various pills that he needed to sustain his life. I remember asking him about his medical condition, about his well-being (which quite often focused on his medical condition), and about his life in general. I remember anxiously asking him of his work--always afraid that another company would view his "medical" history to be too difficult to continue employing him. I remember watching him struggle as he talked. I remember hating that his vocal chords were ruined. It was difficult for Brandon to push enough air through his throat to speak. I often worried about other people judging Brandon's difficulties, and I desired to protect him from their scrutiny.Whenever Brandon came to visit, I thought often of his medical trials, but I forgot to enjoy the person Brandon truly was... In retrospect, in my effort of protecting Brandon, I became the problem I desired to protect him against. Perhaps this is a story about loving a person entirely--the good and the bad. In my limited understanding previous to Brandon's passing, I was loving Brandon entirely; however, now--as I reflect on his life, I wonder if there could have been more charity, more love, and more joy if I had only taken the time to bask a bit in his great strengths? I wonder how I could have grown as a sister, and as a mother--if I had only allowed myself the opportunity of being the student rather than being the teacher all of the time?

Seeing people for their good qualities is a gift. This gift in which I speak is the gift of charity. Seeing others as they truly are is a lesson that will not be lost on me. 

The TALK (or a portion of it) by Greg Slevin about Brandon Elkington:
(Greg worked as a pharmacist at a Camp where Brandon was a counselor.):

Brandon was another person I met at Camp.  He was also a counselor, who had type 1 diabetes.  He was about 20 something.  Unlike Zach--Brandon also had another condition.  One of the things that the pharmacy students and I do on the Saturday that we get to camp is to set up the infirmary and package all of the staff medications in bubble packs.  The first time I met Brandon was when I was helping a student package his medications.  Not only was Brandon cursed with Type 1 diabetes--he also had another auto-immune condition that affected his other organs.  His own body would attack his other organs.  He was on some very powerful medications to prevent this from happening.  When you take powerful medications there are always side effects, sometimes powerful side effects.  He had multiple things going on that he dealt with every single day.  I can tell you that I have never seen Brandon with anything on his face other than a smile.  He was always positive.  You would never have known that he was battling multiple diseases.  He would often be giggling with a friend on the other side of the room and you would just wonder what they were talking about.  He had a gift.  Like Zach, he would do anything to help you out.  He wouldn’t even hesitate.  Didn’t care what it was.  If you asked for help he would just jump up out of his seat and say let’s go.  When I was helping to prepare for camp, I was surprised to not see his name on the roster this year.  We had talked the previous year and he thought for sure that he would be coming to camp this year.  I just assumed something came up.  It was certainly not uncommon for people to miss a year.  Sometimes if someone can’t come for the entire week they get permission to come for part of a week.  Their name may not always be on the roster.  It could have been that he was in the "maybe column"--that he hadn’t committed yet.  The roster always changes right up until camp.  Sometimes even during camp people have to go home for an unexpected reason.  At teen camp Saturday evening, we had just finished getting the medical stuff set up, and all of us headed to the lodge for staff meeting and training.  One of the first things that Alan, our camp director, said was that he had to make an announcement.  He wanted to let us know that Brandon had died.  He ended up getting a respiratory infection… I think it was the flu.  Because Brandon had to take medications to prevent his body from attacking his other organs, he could not fight infection very well.  I really don’t know a lot of the details.  I didn’t know that it had happened.  Many of the others there had known.  I was in shock.  Brandon was such a nice guy.  Brandon lived in eastern Idaho, so I didn’t really know him that well.  I just knew him one week out of the year, and can tell you he has had a tremendous effect on my life.  It is people like him and Zach that make it easy for me to be positive when I am performing service.  My words don’t even come close to describing him.  When I got back from camp, I tried to learn more about what had happened to him.  When I went to his Facebook page there were hundreds of people that had commented about him.  This is what they had to say:  1) He was truly a gift of God.   2) He is an example of the sort of positive influence that I hope to be.  3) Brandon was a great guy and a true friend to everyone he came across.  4) He was such a fun loving guy.  5) I had only a few brief interactions with Brandon. I remember being impressed with his unrelenting optimism in the face of great difficulty.  6) With the many struggles that had come your way you fought threw it, always smiling anytime I saw you. 7) You were a man people could count on, always willing to help others before yourself.  8) What an amazing guy you were! So full of life and fun!  9) He has always been so strong and a friend to everyone.  10) His kind, sunny personality will be greatly missed. The messages went on and on.  There were Hundreds of messages.  I do believe that Brandon stands blameless before God

LESSONS I AM LEARNING:

Charity Never Faileth:

President Monson gave a talk on charity. In his talk, he shared a story that seemed to emulate many of Brandon's trials in life. This is what he said:

A woman by the name of Mary Bartels had a home directly across the street from the entrance to a hospital clinic. Her family lived on the main floor and rented the upstairs rooms to outpatients at the clinic.

One evening a truly awful-looking old man came to the door asking if there was room for him to stay the night. He was stooped and shriveled, and his face was lopsided from swelling—red and raw. He said he’d been hunting for a room since noon but with no success. “I guess it’s my face,” he said. “I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says it could possibly improve after more treatments.” He indicated he’d be happy to sleep in the rocking chair on the porch. As she talked with him, Mary realized this little old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. Although her rooms were filled, she told him to wait in the chair and she’d find him a place to sleep.

At bedtime Mary’s husband set up a camp cot for the man. When she checked in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and he was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, he asked if he could return the next time he had a treatment. “I won’t put you out a bit,” he promised. “I can sleep fine in a chair.” Mary assured him he was welcome to come again.

In the several years he went for treatments and stayed in Mary’s home, the old man, who was a fisherman by trade, always had gifts of seafood or vegetables from his garden. Other times he sent packages in the mail.

When Mary received these thoughtful gifts, she often thought of a comment her next-door neighbor made after the disfigured, stooped old man had left Mary’s home that first morning. “Did you keep that awful-looking man last night? I turned him away. You can lose customers by putting up such people.”

Mary knew that maybe they had lost customers once or twice, but she thought, “Oh, if only they could have known him, perhaps their illnesses would have been easier to bear.”

After the man passed away, Mary was visiting with a friend who had a greenhouse. As she looked at her friend’s flowers, she noticed a beautiful golden chrysanthemum but was puzzled that it was growing in a dented, old, rusty bucket. Her friend explained, “I ran short of pots, and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn’t mind starting in this old pail. It’s just for a little while, until I can put it out in the garden.”

Mary smiled as she imagined just such a scene in heaven. “Here’s an especially beautiful one,” God might have said when He came to the soul of the little old man. “He won’t mind starting in this small, misshapen body.” But that was long ago, and in God’s garden how tall this lovely soul must stand! 3 Appearances can be so deceiving, such a poor measure of a person. Admonished the Savior, “Judge not according to the appearance.” 4

(Thomas S. Monson, "Charity Never Faileth", October 2010 General Conference)

Brandon struggled with his health ever since we were little kids. I still remember the day he was diagnosed with diabetes. It was horrific in my mind as I listened to his scream. I remember him yelling, "Daddy, save me. Daddy, save me. Don't let them hurt me." I remember watching my father and mother cry as Brandon received shots to help sustain his life. I remember sitting on the hospital floor, closing my eyes as tight as they would squeeze as I tried to block the scene from my mind. 

Brandon's diabetic struggle became a constant companion. I hated the days in which Brandon would have to fight for good blood sugars. I especially hated it when he would find himself  "low". It was in these moments that we would all scramble to save him. 

Brandon's trials did not stop at diabetes. While serving his mission, his appendix burst, which nearly killed him. Thankfully, through many priesthood blessings and the talents of the medical profession, Brandon was stabilized. He was transferred home where he could receive medical care around the clock. However, Brandon could never rest until he knew a job was done right, and so as soon as he was healthy, Brandon returned to the mission field determined to serve the Lord.

After returning home, Brandon soon discovered that the medications given to him when his appendix burst in combination with his diabetic medications caused his bone mass to deteriorate. At 27 years-old, he had the bone-mass of a 90 year-old man. At 28, he received hip replacement surgery. In addition to ruining his bone mass, the medications also took a toll on his vocal chords and nasal cavities. He was diagnosed with nasal sinusitis, and as he continued to struggle he was finally diagnosed with Wagner's Disease--another auto-immune disorder that attacked his lungs. 

Brandon's life was a series of difficulties. The majority of his life, he kept positive about these difficulties--always assuming the best. However, two summer's before his passing, Brandon tried to tell me of his struggles. I was optimistic and encouraging insisting that it would all be well--not to worry--all would be well. Even when Brandon tried to tell me once how sick he really was--I denied him that conversation insisting he would be okay. 

The thing is: most of the time, he had that perspective too. He was an example of that Chrysanthemum planted in a rusty bucket. Oh, how I love him and his example. I am so blessed to have learned from him. 

Find Joy in the Journey:

Another quote by President Monson:

"Stresses in our lives come regardless of our circumstances. We must deal with them the best we can. But we should not let them get in the way of what is most important—and what is most important almost always involves the people around us. Often we assume that they must know how much we love them. But we should never assume; we should let them know. Wrote William Shakespeare, “They do not love that do not show their love.” ³ We will never regret the kind words spoken or the affection shown. Rather, our regrets will come if such things are omitted from our relationships with those who mean the most to us.

Send that note to the friend you’ve been neglecting; give your child a hug; give your parents a hug; say “I love you” more; always express your thanks. Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved. Friends move away, children grow up, loved ones pass on. It’s so easy to take others for granted, until that day when they’re gone from our lives and we are left with feelings of “what if” and “if only.” Said author Harriet Beecher Stowe, “The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.” 

(Thomas S. Monson, "Finding Joy in the Journey", October 2008 General Conference)

I love the part where he says, "Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved." This is wisdom. True wisdom. We must love those around us. We must love them for who they are. We must cherish every minute we are given with them. We must love them and cherish them.