Brad Miles

My family on my mom's side has a bit of a star crossed history.  Hell, I guess every family does.  My mom lost both of her older sisters, Sue and Ann, way too early.  She lost her father - my grandfather - way too early.  I lost my my way too early, in my view, anyway, when she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's then died after a massive stroke three and a half years ago.

Last Sunday morning, we lost my oldest cousin, Brad Miles, when he died of a heart attack at age 60. Way too early. 

Survived by his wife, Theresa, and three children, Nathan, Ben, and Sara Ann, it's beyond tragic, really. 

When Brad's mom, Ann (Ussery) Miles died, he and his sister, Ann Howard, were in high school and moved in with my grandmother in Jackson, Tennessee.  They finished high school at Jackson Central-Merry.  Alice moved in with us because she was closer to our age.  

I looked up to Brad when I was a child because he was the oldest of our group of seven cousins.  I was the second oldest, younger than him by four years.  He introduced me to comic books, and KISS (the band), among other things.  When I was in high school, I may or may not have ridden shotgun with him as we drove around Jackson and drank a beer or two.  

When I was young, we were playing in my grandparent's backyard at there house on West Forest Avenue in Jackson, when hundreds of yellow jackets swarmed out of a nest in the ground.  After telling me to run inside, he stayed behind and slammed a broom against the hole in then ground in a futile effort to slow the yellow jackets down and save me from getting stung.  

When Brad came inside a few minutes later, he had been stung multiple times on his forehead and face, in my recollection.  It was the first and purest act of heroism I had been exposed to at that point in my life.  I've never forgotten that act of selflessness and in many ways, it personified how Brad lived his entire life. 

Years later in in 1979, after Brad and Ann Howard had moved in with my grandmother in Jackson, he was a defensive lineman on a  Jackson Central-Merry  team that went 13 - 1 and was runner up to the state champions.  

Brad put others first, especially family.  Even if he didn't have much, he gave what he had to others. Always.

This was never more evident to me than when I spoke with his sons, Nathan and Ben, at a visitation for family and friends in Jackson last week.  Nathan is grown now and teaching and Ben is almost grown.  Both boys are big - taller than me -  but with reserved and respectful personalities that belie their physical stature.  And, to me, at least in the moment, both boys were mature beyond their years.  That would make Brad proud, I think.

At one point, Nathan remarked to me that sometimes it seemed to him that his father felt like he hadn't achieved as much as he could or should have or that he hadn't made enough of his life.  Nathan looked away from me, shook his head and said, almost to himself, "I don't know why he felt that way."  

I don't either.  What I think I do know, though, is that to Brad, his crowning achievement was his children, all of them.  Nathan.  Ben.  Sara Ann.  He was very proud of them, rightfully so.

Life is hard to understand sometimes.  Poor health.  Pain, physical and emotional.  Uncertainty.  Unhappiness.  Sadness.  Loss.  Death.  I guess it's all part of it, though.  The human condition and the human experience.  

I thought about this and a lot of other things as I drove back to Nashville from Jackson.  I hugged my boys a little bit tighter when I walked in the door that evening.  I reminded myself to appreciate my blessings, especially my family and friends, because in many ways, it's all fleeting.