Brandon Scott Dayley

Brandon's goals

2010-12-19T17:59:00.003-05:00

I was reading in one of Brandon's journals tonight and found a list of goals. It's not dated, but I'm guessing it was somewhere in 2007. He had a birthday card from me as a place marker. Here's a partial excerpt of his list:

*Start a Traumatic Brain Injury clinic in Albion (Idaho)
*Become public speaker
*Eat healthy
*Befriend a lot of people
*Work on memory
*Work on shoulder rehabilitation
*Buy house in Port Costa
*Buy college in Albion—convert to TBI Area
*Read more books on spiritual growth and learn how to become better person in all I do.
*Get married in temple
*Help others in all I do and say
*Set a good example in all I do
*Read 15 scriptures a day
*Learn more ASL
*Buy Cassidy better shoes
*Clean my room
*Learn Spanish fluently
*Learn chess well enough to beat Austin!
*Read more books—helping my inner soul grow!
*Live in Mexico for a time

Brandon had a good heart. He always wanted to help others and better himself. I miss him.

Brandon's trip to school with me...

2010-03-10T16:24:00.000-05:00

Today in class we were reading the news then came across an accident similar to Christopher Reeve's. We then started a small lesson on human anatomy- specifically the spinal cord and vertebrae. This topic brought up Brandon's big accident in his Z. I took the kids in our class on a walk through Brandon's life. It was great to think about him today. You know what else was great? While looking at pictures of the funeral services, a couple kids commented on how everyone was smiling instead of crying...

I'm deeply greatful for the knowledge and continual warm assurance that Brandon truly is still around and that I will see him again. I'm greatful for the person he was before and after his accident, his charisma, his love and his friendship. Thanks for hanging out in class with us today.

Quoting the very end to one of my most favorite movies, Gladiator...

I will see you again...but not yet...not yet...

Dear Brandon

2009-10-16T21:16:00.005-04:00

I miss you, big brother. It has been almost 19 months since you left us. Less than three months ago you were joined by our sweet mother. I know that you are busy up there. You must be so happy to be with Grandma and Grandpa, too.

Owen is turning eight in a few months. I was thinking that instead of buying him a new set of scriptures, I would give him yours. He'll need a new case, in blue, his favorite color. I wish you could be there for his baptism.

I miss your bear hugs, the way you would crack my back and squeeze the breath out of me with your strong arms. I miss the way you grinned and teased relentlessly. If I could go back in time and tell my teenage self that someday I'd be missing that...ha! Life is a crazy ride and I am holding on tight. I wish the Savior would hurry up and get here so we can all be together again.

Soren doesn't remember you. He knows who you are, because we talk about you often. He can identify you in a photo. But I don't think he remembers you. He was too little when you left. Not quite two when you visited last.

Owen has pictures of you on his wall. He gets a sad look on his face when we talk about you, and he gets very possessive of anything that you gave him. Even a pencil or a marker becomes special because you gave it especially to him. He's very attached to things that way. I'm glad he has things to hold onto that remind him of you. I have always been so grateful for the way that you 'uncled' him. You called often, just to talk to him. He was old enough to take the phone to his bedroom and close the door and have a private conversation with you. Thank you for reaching out to him and maintaining that special relationship.

I remember the discussion we had about being called 'Uncle.' You were trying to avoid the title because it made you feel old, but I insisted that it was what set you apart as having a special tie to my children. You were never just Brandon. Brandon could be anybody, a neighbor, a friend, somebody's dad. You had to be Uncle Brandon.

Do you remember riding in the back of Uncle Marty's white pickup truck? He used to toss nickels and dimes out the window into the bed of the truck where we would scramble gleefully to claim the money. Maybe he only did that once or twice, but it made a lasting impression on my young mind. Uncles are fun. Uncles are cool. Uncles do neat things for you. You were a great uncle.

I love you, Bruno. I miss your optimism. I miss you. Check in on us, will you?

Remembering Brandon, March 28, 2009

2009-04-15T19:12:00.004-04:00

On March 28 we honored Brandon's memory by doing one of his very favorite things: Eating dinner at the Mecca in Pittsburg. The downtown has been undergoing renovations, but we were glad to see that the old Mecca still stands. It was good to run into Bishop Daynes, who spoke at Brandon's funeral, and his wife, Susan. We were surprised to find out it was their first visit to the Mecca! And to think that I flew cross country just to eat there! (not really). As usual the food was delicious. We ate chips and salsa and made sure to eat enough that we had to ask for seconds on the salsa. Larry, me, Rachel, Clayton and Rolan.

Closing Prayer

2009-04-04T13:00:00.000-04:00

    Our Father in heaven,
We express gratitude for all who have helped in these services today: for the preparations, flowers, and food. At this time we've come to mourn our loss. Father we come here to gather and mourn for the loss of our beloved son, brother, cousin, nephew, uncle, and dear friend Brandon Scott Dayley.
    We are commanded to live together in love insomuch that we should weep for them that die. Brandon, in his 31 years, was an example of love, service, and kindness—especially toward those less fortunate than himself. He was known for lifting up the hands that hang down, the poor and downtrodden in spirit. Many times in his life he looked after the least of his brethren.
    This day Brandon stands before his Maker and our Maker, his God and our God.
    God be with you Brandon! God be with you till we meet again. God our Father, into they hands we commend Brandon to keep in safety, love, and peace till we meet again at Jesus' feet and we do this in the sacred name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

In Memoriam

2009-03-28T08:32:00.002-04:00

For my family, with love

Brandon's Pond

2009-03-26T15:30:00.000-04:00

Rachel and I visited the pond at LMC on 3.26.09. A young security guard walked us to the place where they found Brandon's body. The pond was larger than I imagined but beautiful, filled with ducks, geese, seagulls, fish and even some turtles. We were told that Brandon used to walk around the pond every day and he always walked with someone, but the day he died, for some reason, he went alone. Very peaceful there. Did he have a feeling that he'd be leaving us? I don't know, but I tried to see things as Brandon might have. Did he talk to the ducks? I'm sure of it. Feed them? Oh, yeah. Say hello to the turtles? Of course he did. Brandon loved nature and he loved the outdoors. And I'm sure he noticed Mt. Diablo in the background near the pond's other end. (I didn't get a picture of that). I'm definitely going back.

Your attention, please

2009-03-25T10:21:00.002-04:00

Alright, y'all. I'm working on a slide show, which I would like to have up by Saturday. I have a very large quantity of photos I am sifting through, including all of the family photos in our mother's possession, all of my own photos, and some of Brandon's own photos. I am very aware of my inability to include everyone who has ever been a part of his life, nor do I think it justified; however, if you have a photograph of yourself with Brandon that means a lot to you that you would like included, please do email it to me immediately (my email address is on the right sidebar). I do have many family photos, some of high school friends, cousins, etc. I hate to hurt anyone's feelings but do keep in mind that this is being created through the lens of a sister, AND there are only so many seconds in a song. I'll do my best. And finally, my scanner is really terrible and I apologize for the quality of some of the images. Given the deadline, I figure I'll let well enough alone.

final farewell

2009-02-07T20:13:00.003-05:00

The night Brandon died I was making peanut butter cookies. It was around 6:30. I had this warm feeling surround me as I thought of him. I wanted to call him, just to tell him that I loved him, but I looked at the clock and talked myself out of it. It was after 3pm in California and I was sure he'd be at school. I made a note to myself to call him later.

We got the call at 9:30 at night. I was lying in bed with Soren, nursing him off to sleep. Austin answered the phone. He brought the phone to my mom, who was in the living room, then dashed back into our bedroom. "Brandon is dead."

I don't know when I made the connection, whether it was that terrible, interminable night or sometime in the coming days, but the moment that warm feeling enveloped me in the kitchen was about the same time they found Brandon's body in the pond. I wondered if I had acted on that feeling if I might have spoken with him moments before he died. But I have felt and continue to believe that he was giving me one last hug. I had that sudden warm feeling for him because I was feeling his presence. His spirit had already left his body and he was coming to say goodbye, to check in on his loved ones on his way to the other side.

I love you, Brandon. I miss you so much.

Brandon's laugh

2009-01-31T00:16:00.002-05:00

I love hearing Brandon's laugh. It happens every once in a while when I'm not even thinking about it, coming from people whom I would never expect it from. While walking across campus in Chico today, I was telling a buddy of mine a funny story. Although I have never related Brandon to this particular friend in the least, I heard him respond to my story with this big jovial, hearty laugh that sounded just like Brandon's. Just there in front of Bidwell Mansion, I took in a deep breath as I looked up at the crisp blue sky and was grateful to have the memory and friendship of such a close friend in my heart.

Handsome in red

2009-01-29T16:44:00.004-05:00

I had never seen this photo until around Christmas time 2008. Austin and I figured that this was taken in front of the physics department at UC Davis, and certainly with Brandon's camera. I wonder who took it? I think Brandon looks particularly handsome. Owen looks to be about 15-18 months old, so this was probably taken in the spring or early summer of 2003. And you can see what a large man Brandon was. I'm always dwarfed by the men in my family.

Happy New Year, Traci

2009-01-01T18:39:00.000-05:00

Brandon's special friend, Traci. I visited with her for several hours when I went to California recently. I gave her some of Brandon's things. She introduced me to little "Brandon", her daughter Cassidy's new puppy.

Holiday Memories

2008-12-18T17:20:00.003-05:00

The last time I saw Brandon alive was when he came to Maryland right after Christmas last year. We went to Mt Vernon, Annapolis, played board games, and some days Brandon took the metro into the city. He was never afraid of checking out a new place, even a large city like D.C. This Christmas my thoughts have been on him a lot. Especially the other night while seeing the Christmas lights on the temple grounds for the first time this year.

On new year's eve 2007, Brandon and I decided to go see the temple lights. Neither of us had been there and we wanted to see them before they were gone. The night was cold. And it was dark. I was being careful to follow Chantel's written instructions for getting on and off the beltway when we came around a bend and suddenly, there was the temple right in front of us. It looked as though it were hanging suspended from the clouds. The lights were everything people said they were, and more. But that's not all. I met a special sister missionary who became a good friend. Her mother and I have experiences in common and my friendship with Sister McEwen lead to a friendship with her mother. The visitor's center was filled with huge Christmas trees, each decorated differently. Brandon soon found a sister missionary whose relation served in Dallas when Brandon did. Brandon always did have a way of finding common ground with others. I think he might have even been a little smitten, but I felt happy that he seemed so happy.

The moment I first saw the temple I felt the spirit and the feeling stayed with me in abundance until we left the grounds a couple of hours later. The memory of that night, how characteristically cheerful Brandon was, and how good to be with him will remain with me, especially whenever I visit the temple grounds on a cold night during the holiday season.

Thoughts on Brandon (Memorial service)

2008-11-28T23:55:00.001-05:00

I started this entry in May 08, I believe. Getting the rest of the things that I shared at his service written down has been a challenge for me. Finalizing all this is almost like I am finally closing and sealing shut my own personal book of rememberance for Brandon- something which I have not really wanted to do. Looking back on it, I wish I would have gone to Idaho to really say goodbye. For me, this is my goodbye to my great friend...I love you Brandon. My apologies for the long wait...I hope you all understand. -Shane

(2 water glasses and a pitcher full of water are set up on the side of the pulpit in the chapel. I grab them and fill the 2 glasses up and set them down. Somebody afterward thought it was going to be a very long winded talk!)

One day about a year ago while Brandon was visiting our house we went to sacrament meeting in a building just like this one. Halfway through the meeting, Brandon gets up and leaves only to return, walking back through the chapel full of people, with two big and very full glasses of water. Sacrament meetings are usually pretty reverent and not really a place where someone might cruise in with lunch or drinks and sit down. When I asked him what was up with the water he methodically paused, then looked at the water glasses, and back at me and said, "I thought you guys might be thirsty." This is a very clear example of how Brandon lived his life- always thinking of others.

A few years ago while attending school in Chico I was assigned a book to read. While the overall theme behind the book has little to do with why we are here today, there is a very important concept that I took away from reading it that I have kept with me and which reminds me of Brandon.

The book is about a large gorilla named Ismael who was raised by a very educated man and learned to speak and read English. Ismael became well versed in history and literature. The conversations which Ismael had with his teacher regularly reflected on the knowledge that had been passed down to him through his primate ancestors relating to how man has changed over the years in his relationship with the world. He said that as time had passed on that men had become 'Takers'. 'Takers' and 'Givers' were two classifications which he gave to just about every species. Takers were those that consumed products of the earth with no regard to anything that might or might not be left behind for others. Givers were the ones who were always cognoscente of how their actions affected the lives of others. They always ensure that the needs of others are met and always leave sufficient for others in the future. Brandon, before and after his accident, was an excellent example of a 'Giver'. I am grateful for him, his example, and the opportunity we have to be here together to remember him today.

Brandon and I met in the summer of '97 in a student ward in Chico. We both ended up signing up for the same evening college class and I immediately recognized him when I walked in the first night. I pulled up an empty desk next to him and we started to chat. A spot in our apartment opened up shortly after that and I felt great about asking him to move in with myself and a couple other buddies. We spent dozens of late nights staring at a mesmerizing fish tank and eating lasagna and tacos, which Brandon always loved to cook up. We always joked about eating 'like kings'...the man had some great culinary skills. We shared a love for old Z's which we always ended up racing around at speeds we wont mention for Martha's sake. A month of overlaping unemployment was thoroughly enjoyed by both of us as we got to be great friends.

The majority of the people in my life who I typically befriend are people whom I admire- people who in one way or another have certain recognizable strengths as well as a kind heart. Brandon was that kind of person. Although Brandon's mom might disagree with this, I admired Brandon for his cleanliness, organization, and self motivation. We found many similarities in our backgrounds and strength in each other as we recognized how we had both struggled to overcome childhood lives that might have easily lead us down much different roads. Brandon definitely falls under the category of a person whom I admire. I think that is why we are all here today- to remember and be thankful for the extra time we were blessed to have Brandon with us. My heart is full of gratitude for the extra ten years I have had to have Brandon as a friend, to get to know him better and to learn from him.

The Book of Mormon, which is a record of Christ's visit to the ancient inhabitants of the Americas, holds some writings of many prophets, one was named Alma. He said the following of another man named Moroni : "Yea, verily, verily I say unto you, if all men had been, and were, and ever would be, like unto Moroni , behold, the very powers of hell would have been shaken forever; yea, the devil would never have power over the hearts of the children of men." Brandon is similarly a man of such strength and determination. Few knew that his spiritual strength exceeded his great physical strength.

As I pondered what I could share here today many thoughts came to mind. I thought about Brandon's personal strengths and how he has affected my life. What purpose can we each find in why we are here today? Can we each find greater strength within ourselves to be grateful for how blessed we are? To be more thoughtful of others? To be more complimentary? To see the glass as half full? Or to be a better friend? Brandon regularly spoke of 'how good we have it' and 'how great life is'. When having some money stolen, words such as 'money is only pictures of dead people' were said. When thrown out of a taxi while having a seizure and having his wallet stolen he said 'he must have needed it more than me'. How many times did many of us hear about how Brandon wanted to help someone who was homeless when he didnt have much himself? Brandon always seemed to be a 'the glass is half-full' type of person. There is a quote by C.S. Lewis which talks about how there are angelic beings that infinitely exceed our immaginations in their goodness and peace and how every time we interact with someone we move them towards that end- and if not, in an opposite direction. Brandon always tried to find a way to be a Giver and leave people better off than the way he found them.

There is certainly a sense of loss in my heart when thinking of not having my dear friend around for the rest of my life but my faith and knowledge of the gospel of Jesus Christ and the purpose of our lives here on Earth brings me peace and comfort. Alma, in The Book of Mormon, while talking to his young son said "Now, concerning the state of the soul between death and the resurrection—Behold, it has been made known unto me by an angel, that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, yea, the spirits of all men, whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life. And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow." I am grateful to know that Brandon is in a state of rest and peace at this time.

I am blessed to have had such a great friend, as we have all been. I am grateful for the knowledge about this life which the gospel brings me. I pray that we can all find it within ourselves to be better examples to the people around us, to be better friends, to find meaning in Brandon's life, and to be Givers in any way we can.

Inclusion

2008-11-09T21:52:00.003-05:00

Just around a month ago, I had the privilege and blessing of being invited to Larry's house to disassemble, review, and organize a room packed full of stuff that had belonged to our great friend Brandon. Plastic bags, boxes, furniture, and backpacks revealed enough pens to outline the continents. Extra napkins were stashed everywhere, as they were in his 260Z's glove box- a habit which I have adopted albeit a little more conservatively. Knife sets and cooking wear were a plenty. The man loved to cook and eat- a pastime which Brandon and I always made sure we participated in when we got together. "We'll eat like kings!", he would always say. Bags and boxes, boxes and bags, there were a lot of other things which were pulled out and discussed as to their origins.

Thank you Dayley's for letting me be involved in such an intimate time with your family. Brandon's beautiful black wool jacket will be treasured throughout my life as well as the experience I was blessed to share with you.

2008-10-29T09:36:00.002-04:00

I cannot forget the first time I met Brandon. He was laughing and teasing and playfully flirting with our math tutor who is 2x's his age. She introduced us because we shared her attention and that was a nice way to get to know him indirectly. The first thing he asked me is if I wanted to hear a joke. I do not remember the joke but I do remember him presenting me with a nice bag of assorted gourmet confections, on our first meeting!

For the guys out there, the quickest way to a womans heart is a good laugh and candy afterwards. I was quickly swept off my feet with his sweet ways and warm heart. Being at least 6'2" I was more than drawn to him as a gentle giant.

The next thing he asked me is what did I know about LDS. I said to him"...do you mean LSD?" "of course not...The Church of Latter Day Saints!..." "Oh, sorry..." "No." and he proceeded to tell me all about his faith and what it meant to him. I was again impressed with his convictions. As we strolled through campus, he asked to hold my hand. I said, "yes."

I trusted Brandon right away. I am not usually a trusting person so I was immediately surprised about that. I even gave him my home address. That is very unusual for me but I knew that he was plugged into a network that I felt could be trusted so I just relaxed and watched where this cute and playful relationship would go.

Brandon and I spent alot of casual time together. I eventually gave him a nic-name. He was just like a Bear to me. He wore it like a good sport. He started calling me little bear and before we knew it, we were, well, in love. I joined the LDS church and met his wonderful family. He showed me where he grew up and took me to all of the places for the best, cheapest mexican food. (He could stretch a dollar.) He would cook for me and we would watch movies but the best time we had was when I took him to see the Singing Flag on July 4th. He could not believe that such a show would be free.

We were close and we talked about his life and his faith. We talked about his difficulties with his injury and the problems he had with self control. He was not afraid of death. He knew it would come someday. He also knew that if he could just help as many people find happiness while he was on earth, that he could accept his fate. I was so impressed with him for that. I knew he had as many lives going at the same time as a cat has nine lives in a row. At the time I was kinda uncomfortable with not knowing what he was up to. I was learning to live with my own fears. That was just one of the lessons I got from him. So many more were to follow.

One day, I picked him up to go to an event. A girl with a daughter was outside his house. I did not know who she was but I knew she was trouble for me. It eventually turned out so... She was the daughter of a wealthy man and was younger than I by 10 or so years. I knew that she had his attention and I had to gracefully back out. It was very hard, after all, he persued me! Alas, in the end it was clear that I did not have his full attention so we ended it on a warm California night. I immediately called my ex-boyfriend for a breakfast date.

We went to a small cafe in town and were laughing about old times when guess who shows up? Brandon and his new girlfriend. Don't you just hate that! I found out later that both of our hearts sank at that moment. He later told me that when he saw me with another man, he could not even eat his breakfast. That is very unusual for him being a giant guy. His girl noticed but did not recognize me. I went through that day with a heavy heart. I realized I was in love with him and I just needed to work through it. I eventually did but will never forget seeing him again just to say how much I missed his companionship and bear hugs.

He eventually moved with his mom to Pittsburg and I eventually moved to Northgate so I never saw him again. I dated and dated but never found another like Brandon. I eventually met Mr. Right and I am happy. Brandon told me I would. He always had a strong opinion about my continued happiness, now that I was a member of the Church.

He is still a force in my life. A warrior for my happiness. That is how selfless he was and is in spirit. I miss you Brandon. I know you do not suffer and that is all I could ask from you.

Kate Rogers 10/29/2008

Rocking Horse

2008-08-10T23:11:00.004-04:00

Shane's little girl Kendall has a rocking horse. When I saw her pictures on their blog, they reminded me of you on your rocking horse...how long ago that was...and even longer since your Dad rode it...how many children through the years have ridden it and ride it now.

I'm in the very long and tedious process of organizing thirty years of family photos, so you'll have to indulge me the occasional trip down memory lane. Love and miss you. Mom

Cause of Death

2008-07-11T18:45:00.000-04:00

Today I learned from the county coroner that Brandon died from a seizure disorder, not from drowning as we thought. This knowledge makes his passing easier to bear and confirms what I had thought earlier--that it was truly Brandon's time to go. I was with him only one time when he had a seizure and it was a horrible experience. I'm so thankful that he is free from seizures and back pain and anxiety and every other struggle that he faced these past ten years. He lived with courage and optimism and I miss him more than words can express.

Happy Happy Birthday Brandon Dear

2008-06-23T11:10:00.002-04:00

I miss you so much.

Brandon would have been 32 today.

This was taken in 2004. We had a potluck dinner to celebrate Brandon and Clayton's birthdays.

Brandon and Rolan

2008-06-22T15:53:00.002-04:00

Brandon, Clayton & Rolan

Here is Brandon holding his newest nephew when Rolan was just a few days old. Early October 2007.

Pictures

2008-05-24T14:38:00.014-04:00

Some great lookin' people!)

Good Time Together in Pacifica

2008-05-19T17:34:00.000-04:00

A Coach's Memories

2008-05-15T18:36:00.003-04:00

Janet Nelson emailed me that she got a message from Coach Silvera about Brandon, but not in time to use it in the life sketch on the day of his funeral. This is what he said:

"I remember Brandon's great enthusiasm - he was very dedicated - a happy, go lucky kind of guy - very coachable - proud to be an Alhambra Bulldog - loved to play the game - likeable kid - gave everything he had on the field."

Mr. Macho

2008-05-14T10:00:00.003-04:00

These pictures crack me up. Austin was poking fun at Brandon's 'picture face' and they were both laughing at each other. January 2006.

Love through Service

2008-05-13T15:21:00.004-04:00

Not a day goes by that I don't think of my brother. I miss him so much. He has been a great motivating factor at times when I am trying to decide whether or not I should participate in something, or in how I want my attitude to be. For example, I had signed up to "Spread Sunshine to Seniors" as part of a service project through church, and on that Saturday morning I really didn't feel like going. I knew if I went I would probably enjoy it and if I stayed home I'd get a lot done, but what finally got me to make up my mind (and GO) was thinking of Brandon's love for seniors. I knew that if he were here, he would go and he would love being there. Now I don't feel like I always need to do whatever he would have done, but I was grateful for his example of showing his love for others through service. He truly lived a life of service.

Before Christmas Brandon told me that he really wanted to do something for Austin and I that we couldn't do for ourselves. I thought about it and told him that we needed to have a tree trimmed, which our homeowners insurance claimed was too close to the chimney. He stayed with us for almost two weeks in December and January, and even though it was freezing outside and we didn't have the right tools, Brandon spent half the day up in that tree, trimming off the offending branches. He even insisted on chopping it all up and left it in neat piles of kindling, smaller branches, and logs. He didn't believe in leaving a job half finished.

He also tried to teach me how to get the marks off my stove top when he was here. I was irritable and wouldn't listen, told him I didn't care, but now I wish I'd let him. It was just another small way in which he was trying to serve me.

Relaxing

2008-05-09T02:06:00.003-04:00

This isnt his most beautiful side!) but I just wanted to share this pix I came across. This was on one of a couple trips where Brandon cameup and visited here at the house. Somehow my mom had it on her camera. It sure made me miss the guy today as she told me she had a pix of him that I hadnt seen before. I hope everyones is doing OK- I think about you all on a regular basis and hope all is well.

Hot Sauce and Tacos

2008-04-26T19:40:00.002-04:00

Chico is a great town for tacos. I met Brandon there almost a decade ago. We always found a good little taco shop like Tacos Cortez or Tacos de Acapulco to hit up on the weekends or midnight or whenever. A couple guys in school looking to get the most out of $3. The man may have been American but his tongue was most certainly hispanic- his food was not complete until it was bathed in the hot stuff. And often that wasn't enough.

Im headed to Chico on Monday to attend class. I think I will hit up Tacos Cortez, sit down with a few carne asada tacos, a bottle of hot sauce and have a chat with my buddy.

This is my favorite picture!

2008-04-23T18:18:00.000-04:00

Brandon's Life Sketch

2008-04-23T14:58:00.004-04:00

Written and given by long-time family friend, Janet Nelson, April 2, 2008.

Brandon Scott Dayley was a bicentennial baby (his birth certificate even has a special seal on it) born in Twin Falls, Idaho, on a Wednesday summer morning—June 23, 1976. He was born to young parents who were very much in love with him from the start.

Three years later a baby sister Chantel, joined the family—and four years after Chantel, Brandon’s brother, Clayton, was born.

Brandon’s earliest years in Burley Idaho were spent as close as he could get to his paternal grandfather. He worshipped his Grandpa Dayley and spent as much time as possible with him in the garden working and watering.

In 1984, the family moved to California. They lived in Oakley for a year and a half. During this time, Brandon was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

His uncle, Dan Dayley, felt very close to Brandon and once took young Brandon on a trip back to Idaho where he wanted to go pheasant hunting. Brandon was to stay in the car while Dan, just outside, managed to quickly shoot down two pheasants. The car window was rolled down, and Dan said he could hear Brandon yelling, “Hooray for my Uncle Dan—hooray, hooray!” Dan said Brandon was always his best cheerleader.

In 1985, Brandon’s family moved to Martinez where they started a tree farm on four acres. Brandon’s beloved grandparents spent several months each year down in Martinez helping out with the tree farm. This absolutely delighted Brandon as he could then ride the 4-wheeler and shoot guns with his Grandpa.

Brandon attended the Martinez schools and spent his high school years at Alhambra High. He especially enjoyed playing football all four years with the Bulldogs. In fact, his senior year he played both offense and defense. His football coach remembers Brandon’s enthusiasm and love for the game.

Brandon had lots of friends. He was gregarious, had a bit of a swagger in those days, and was very interested in being actively involved in life, sometimes too much so. Elwon Lance tells the story of coming into Brandon’s Sunday school class where he found the teacher hadn’t shown up, so he proceeded to instruct the class. Brandon happened to mouth off in a very disrespectful manner, and Elwon pinned him up against the wall and “counseled” him. Later in the hallway, Brandon challenged Elwon again, and Dane Lance, (Elwon’s son) calmly said to Brandon, “You really don’t want to mess with my dad—he doesn’t fight fair.” About a year and a half later, Brandon apologized to Elwon and they became good friends. In fact, Marci remembers that it was Elwon whom Brandon asked to ordain him to the priesthood before his mission.

Brandon enjoyed the out of doors. He went on numerous camping trips with my sons. When my son, Chad, earned the Eagle rank in Scouting, it was Brandon whom he asked to speak at his Court of Honor. And Brandon did a fantastic job.

Growing up in Martinez, Brandon was close friends with Elise Bendixen. Elise says they were best friends for over ten years. She appreciated his non-judgmental attitude, his willingness to listen endlessly, and his loyalty. Elise’s little sister remembers Brandon coming over to fix her broken down bike and how nice he was to her.

After high school, Brandon was in a very transitional period. He moved up to Chico to room with his Dad who was attending school there. This is the time when Brandon dove back into church activity. The key was Shane, whom you’ll hear from shortly. Another friend, Ian Farr, had recently returned from his mission and spent time talking with Brandon.

Brandon received his own mission call in 1998 to Argentina. That’s when he took his fateful July road trip to Utah to see his maternal grandmother and Uncle Dan. He also went on a long day mountain hike with my son, Dan.

Afterwards, Brandon and his uncle Dan went up to Idaho to see Grandpa and Grandma Dayley. They worked hard all day long trimming pine trees on the property. Dan then returned home to Utah, and Brandon continued into the night to finish the tree trimming project. Then he left for California.

You know the story of the horrific car accident. Brandon was not expected to live, and his Uncle Dan called Bishop Renshaw who then called Paul Maughan to go and administer to him. Paul said it was the most stressful blessing he’s ever given. An hour later a nurse called back Dan to report, “Well, two men from your church gave Brandon the last rites, and he’s actually taken a turn for the better!”

During his recovery period, Brandon received numerous letters from friends recounting all their mutual good times. These letters were read over and over to Brandon to stimulate his memory. Some of you letter writing friends are probably here today continuing your support. Chantel was an incredible help at this time also, totally devoting herself to Brandon’s recovery.

Two years later, Brandon was out on a mission—to Dallas, Texas. Yesterday when I spoke with his mission president, I was told the story of how Brandon wanted to spend time in a nursing home as his weekly service project. One day Brandon fell and hit his head so was taken to the hospital. The mission president’s wife said she received a call every hour on the hour from the nursing home as they wanted continual updates on their special friend.

This compassion for older people naturally extended to Brandon’s grandmother. For the last three years of her life, while she herself was in a nursing home, Brandon called his grandmother almost every single day.

When Brandon returned home from his mission, he started attending DVC. His math tutor (Shirley LaFevre) told me that Brandon was ever the missionary—sometimes she would just have to say, “Now Brandon, this is a math class.” Brandon had to take several classes over, but Marci said nobody could keep Brandon down. He just willed himself to persevere.

As you read in the obituary, Brandon had hoped to gain enough education to work with and help other victims of head injuries. Now, we believe Brandon will be made whole and will be able to use his outgoing, friendly nature to assist others.

And so we bid farewell to Brandon Scott Dayley and remind ourselves—

That life is fragile, and must be treated with prayer. In the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Best Friend

2008-04-21T15:59:00.001-04:00

Proud Big Brother

2008-04-20T17:22:00.002-04:00

I have had this framed on my dresser for years.
Brandon, 2 and a half; Chantel, 3 days
Burley, Idaho

Brandon Dayley Will Always Be Remembered

2008-04-18T15:59:00.004-04:00

I have been struggling to overcome my grieving. I have no idea how soon my grieving will be gone because Brandon was my soul mate and my best friend. I wish I could express my deep gratification to him for his good example of his beautiful spirit he had taught me before he left.

I remember meeting him via internet almost two years ago. We became good friends. I learned more about his disability, but it didn't bother me at all. I just saw him as a beautiful and spiritual person. I was aware of his imperfections after he was in a bad car accident, but I could understand him completely because we had similar experiences with our disabilities in different ways.

He took ASL classes, worked on improving his skill and that gave him an opportunity to communicate with me. We grew close and strong in our relationship. He had great patience with me and paid attention to my signing without distraction. He made me feel inspired, when he signed to me in front of the hearing people as he didn't care what they thought. I loved his positive attitude. I can feel his love in my heart even though he is not on earth anymore. I have many good memories about him.

I am grateful to God for creating us good friends. I also am grateful to Brandon for introducing me to his loyal family. I felt the warmth of being welcomed to his family. You have no idea how lucky I was to have Brandon in my life! I will always remember him until the day I die. I miss him dearly.

Uncle Brandon

2008-04-16T18:46:00.004-04:00

Brandon holding Soren, fifteen days old, on February 18, 2006. Davis, California.

Who are the Poor Among Us?

2008-04-14T22:15:00.003-04:00

The last few years of his life Brandon developed a great sensitivity to and concern for the homeless, the down and out, and people with disabilities. Every day at school he made an effort to talk with the disabled on campus at DVC and LMC. He used to tell me how bad he felt that many of them didn't seem to have any friends or anyone to talk to because they were 'different.' He made it a point to try to change that. Brandon talked with people everywhere he went--on the BART, on the bus, on the street, at the grocery store. He loved the interaction. He had picked up a little Spanish and liked to practice that when he could. He was also taking his third semester of American Sign Language and had developed a close relationship with a deaf woman and other friends in the deaf community as well. Unlike many of us, Brandon was comfortable with everyone and in any situation. Frankly, he worried me with the way he trusted others until they did something to destroy that. He had been mugged, robbed at knife point, slapped in the face, kicked, and probably some other experiences that he didn't share with me. I finally had to accept the fact that no matter what happened to him, he was not going to stop reaching out to other people. In his attitude, the world was full of people less fortunate than he was and if he could make their lives even a little bit better, he wanted to.

The poor have been in our midst in every dispensation. In the Book of Mormon, King Benjamin counseled his people on this very subject: "Ye yourselves will succor (Latin: run to) those who stand in need...you will administer of your substance unto him that standeth in need; and ye will not suffer that the beggar putteth up his petition to you in vain and turn him out to perish." I know that this is the right thing to do, but I have to question how actively I follow through?

Brandon's death has made me aware of my own thoughts and feelings about the homeless population and those who ask for handouts. King Benjamin's people apparently had some of the same attitudes we have today: "Perhaps thou shalt say: The man has brought upon himself his misery. Therefore, I will stay my hand and will not give unto him of my food, nor impart unto him of my substance that he may not suffer, for his punishments are just." How easily I think this and justify my decisions to ignore others! Perhaps sometimes I've done so out of fear. Or I can tell that the person really does have a substance abuse problem, but that does not relieve me of my obligation to help another.

I"ve been in meetings and discussions before when others say that they never give the homeless money because they're sure that the person will just go spend it on drugs or alcohol. I used to feel that way too, until one day it occurred to me that even drug users get hungry, need food, and clean water, a place to lay their heads at night. I decided that if I felt impressed (or inspired) to give another person money, then that was the right thing to do regardless of the doubts that might assail me just then. It isn't up to me what the person spends the money on, nor is it my responsibility, just for giving it to someone, to make sure that that person spends it in a way that I think he should.

King Benjamin continued, "But I say unto you, O, man whosoever doeth this [judgement on others] hath great cause to repent...For behold, are we not all beggars?" It's been said that most Americans are only three months away from being homeless. We have way too much debt, not enough savings (if any), and we live paycheck to paycheck. So who's to say that the next man on the corner didn't have a respectable job and a nice house just a short time before? "And now, if God, who has created you, on whom you are dependent for your lives and for all that ye have and are, doth grant unto you whatsoever ye ask that is right, in faith, believing ye shall receive, O then, how ye ought to impart of your substance one to another." Brandon didn't just believe this principle. He was one of those who could have said (quoting King Benjamin again), "I give not because I have not, but if I had I would give." Instead, Brandon found ways to give anyway in spite of his very limited income. He lived this principle like no one else I have ever known. In that way he was a great example.

The other day I took an exit from the freeway and saw a man at the corner holding up a sign. My first impulse was to judge his appearance--Did he look as though he was getting enough to eat? Was he thin and showing signs of drug abuse? Did he look like an alcoholic? I ignored those thoughts and reached for my wallet. Generous. That's what Brandon was and in his honor, I did what I thought he would have done. I reached out the window and pressed a bill into the man's outstretched hand. He looked down and then his face registered surprise. "God bless you!" he said. I had done the right thing. That was for you, Brandon. And I felt like he was there beside me in the car, cheering me on. I could still hear the man shouting, "Bless you! Bless you!" as I drove away with tears coursing down my cheeks.

Last words from the Big Dawg

2008-04-14T19:31:00.003-04:00

While looking through my cell phone to find Martha's phone number this afternoon, I saw Brandon's number. The thought crossed my mind to return this phone call that he left for me the evening before he left us.

"Hey Shane, how are you doing? This is Brandon! I just um wanted to call you and tell you how much I appreciate you for being my friend. I don't think you...I don't know if you understand how much I really appreciate you as a friend and how much you've helped me. And I love you, bro. I hope everything's okay. If you need anything, give me a call. I'll see if I can do anything to help you. I'll do what I can to help you. Have a good evening, good night."

I called his number which still has his voicemail set up....

Thanks for the phone call, bro. I love ya, too and I miss ya!

Everything isn't coming up roses, however...

2008-04-09T17:24:00.001-04:00

Yellow daffodils bloom in the flower bed next to the front door. The cherry tree is covered in blossoms and little grape hyacinths are blooming unexpectedly all over the yard. I'm glad it's spring and we're not approaching winter, because Brandon had a way of making it springtime with his positive attitude. The healing is beginning but it will be a long road. I'm reading a book about grief now which says that grief takes as long as it takes. It's different for every person. But loss is as much a part of life as love is, and without one, we wouldn't feel the other.

I've thought many times how easy it would have been for Brandon to sink into a deep depression and stay there, complete with the 'why me' attitude and its twin sister 'life sucks.' Although Brandon visited there occasionally (and rightly so given his challenges) he never chose to stay there. He usually called me or Chantel and we'd talk. Sometimes he worked through it right then and sometimes he didn't. Occasionally we'd tease him and call him "Eyeore" and that usually helped, but sooner or later, Brandon always came back around to be a man who was grateful for the blessings in his life. None of us will ever know what kind of courage that took for Brandon to see, as Shane put it in his talk, "the glass half-full" when he struggled with both mental and physical limitations. I'm proud to call him my son and he will be always be an example to me of how to face adversity with courage and determination.

January 14th, 2006

2008-04-08T21:11:00.008-04:00

This was a happy day. We had a party for Owen's fourth birthday and I was less than three weeks from delivering Soren. Brandon was in a great mood, and he was SO helpful. He always endeavored to serve others and spared nothing to do anything he could for me. This was a hallmark of Brandon's personality. Even after I moved to Maryland he would ask me over the phone, "What can I do for you to make your life easier?" The day pictured here found him setting up tables and chairs, carrying food back and forth from my apartment to the community center, playing with his favorite (and at the time only) nephew, eating Mexican Lime Soup with lots of chips crushed up in it, and sitting around in the living room with us, laughing and loving together.

This was the year that Owen wanted cleaning supplies. Brandon was surprised when we told him that Owen would love lint rollers and sponges. He laughed when Owen was beyond thrilled with those perfect gifts.

For my birthday he bought me a small red-headed porcelain doll.

Pictures from My Graduation, May 2007

2008-04-06T16:45:00.003-04:00

Brandon making sure he could see me "walk."After the ceremony.

Me and my boys, Brandon and Clayton, at the graduation party.

On the Night Train

2008-04-06T15:29:00.001-04:00

This is an essay I wrote about four years ago for a class back in Davis.

By car the drive from Martinez to Chico is about three hours long. By train the trip takes considerably longer. There are the frequent stops, of course, and then there are the unexpected delays that pop up almost regularly. It was during 1997 that I took the Amtrak to visit my older brother Brandon. We didn’t always get along growing up, but now that he was on his own in another city, our relationship was much calmer. I was a senior in high school at the time. Brandon was twenty-one. As the train rumbled along the tracks I thought about how we had evolved over the years in our intense, love-hate relationship.
He is two and a half years my senior—cocky, overbearing, and not a little bit manipulative. He loves to push my buttons. I remember feeling so frustrated with him one day that I stabbed him in the back with a fork. I can’t recall exactly why. He taunted and teased me mercilessly, then mocked me shamelessly when I would call for help. “Daddy!” became a symbol of my weakness. He loved to whittle me down to nothing, always emotionally and frequently physically as well. He stands six feet tall and weighs a solid 200 pounds. Our parents were continually reminding him that he didn’t know his own strength.
But that was when we were younger. As we got older we fought less frequently, regarding each other more as comrades and confidantes than enemies. If he went away for the weekend he would offer me the key to his room, a mark of how much he trusted me as well as an acknowledgment of my need for solitude. Although I had my own room, his was separate from the house and served as a welcome refuge from the everyday buzz of inside noises. He thought me a fabulous pianist (which I am not), loved to gloat about my achievements to his friends, and never hesitated to stand up for me.
This was most evident in 1993, the only year we were together during high school. I was a freshman and he was a senior, so naturally I looked up to him and thought him very cool. He was always surrounded by his football friends, most of whom were goofy and good-looking. While all the other girls my age were swooning over the whole pack, I was hanging out with them in the backyard or playing video games with them in the living room after school. I was the collective little sister. I knew Brandon was proud of me that year, proud that I belonged to him, and it was fun to be part of the gang. Everyone on campus knew I was Brandon Dayley’s little sister, which offered me instant status.
One day after a classmate insulted me at school, Brandon sought him on the football field, clasped him by the hand, and head-butted him with all his might. Richie received a gash on the forehead that required a total of seventeen stitches. He never talked to me again, except with the utmost care and respect, and then as little as possible. Brandon escaped legal action, not having yet reached the age of eighteen, but he was suspended from school, including all recreational activities. As a result our football team lost the final game, thereby losing their bid for the state championship. Brandon watched the game from the sidelines, something he had never done in four years.
I smiled to myself as I remembered his infatuation with his physique. The year he head-butted Richie Nakano was also the year he ritualistically measured his biceps every day in front of my mirrored closet doors. Each afternoon, without fail, Brandon would bring the tailor’s tape in from our mom’s sewing closet, flex his muscles, and ask with absolute sincerity, “do my biceps look any bigger?” I always laughed at him as he admired himself in my room.
The train continued on through the night and I saw tiny lights out the window dotting the landscape. They glimmered faintly, offering little illumination. The sky was black. I yawned and stretched, irritated that the train was running late. Something about Amtrak not owning the tracks, having to stop and let other trains pass by . . . ? I was too tired to think about it, and since I wasn’t scheduled to arrive until midnight anyway, I decided to take a nap.
Always an insomniac, I twisted and turned in my seat restlessly. Other passengers snored loudly, prompting me to put my fingers in my ears, to no avail. My mind started to wander. My father had moved to Chico at the beginning of my junior year of high school. He and my mother were still happily married and this was their solution to his finishing school without moving the entire family. He came home most weekends. Brandon moved in with him when I was a senior. I was eager to see them both, but it was Brandon who invited me to come spend the weekend with him. Hanging out with my big brother was sure to be fun, just like old times.
Little did I know that in a year’s time our world would be completely different. How could I know that he would survive a terrible car crash and suffer permanent brain damage? Of course I couldn’t, but as I look back at that carefree weekend trip I wish I had hugged him just a little more tightly, written his smile into my memory more deeply.
It’s different now, his smile. Everything is different. The ‘old Brandon’ was full of charisma. He exuded energy and charm. He could get anything he wanted out of anyone. I always knew when he wanted something from me because he would come up from behind me and start massaging my shoulders, offering compliments like candy. He certainly knew how to flatter.
Now he’s full of insecurities, and suddenly I’m the big sister. He looks up to me, admires and respects me, comes to me frequently for advice. Is this the Brandon I knew? That question is unanswerable, for Brandon is still there, lurking inside, and yet he’s gone. I will never know if he would have been different later in life. People change, after all. Perhaps he would ask my advice anyway—part of it seems to be my status as a parent, a spouse, a college graduate, things he has not yet attained. But perhaps not. It is one of the things I have to let go of.
On the train I slept poorly, the lilting motion affecting my dreams. In them I was crouching on a hillside amongst tall pines and great boulders, being chased by a tiger, hiding in fear. It was dark outside and I shivered with cold. I awoke in a panic. The train was running two or three hours late by now and I knew the station in Chico wasn’t in the best part of town. The plan was to call Brandon from the station when I arrived and he would come get me, but in an unfamiliar place in the middle of the night I feared for my safety. I was nervous as I prepared to exit the train, but when the doors slid open there was Brandon, standing under a street lamp with his arms folded across his chest, waiting patiently. A feeling of utter relief swept over me. I felt so safe as he hugged me tightly. He grinned and wrapped his arm protectively around my shoulders as we walked together toward his car.

A Season of Grief

2008-03-29T14:21:00.001-04:00

My beloved brother Brandon died suddenly yesterday afternoon. I am heartbroken. I am dedicating this blog to his memory as a place to share stories and anecdotes as well as photographs of him. It will also be a place to share our grief as we work through this difficult time. Anyone who would like to contribute is welcome to email me and I will gladly post it here. If you would like to regularly contribute to this blog, I can add you as an author.