Brady’s Story
by Edwin Woolsey (with art by Vashon Borich-Leach)
Writers Artists Night 2021
Brady started his journey on February 15, 1995, on a day almost like today. He was a little red-headed boy, full of life. Genuinely good, he loved hunting with Dad, fishing with Pap-paw, and working cement at their side.
He lived for Rolla football and baseball. He loved wrestling with his little brother! In fact, his little brother was so special to him that Brady got a tattoo of the boy’s name to always keep him close.
But, as Brady grew up, he was involved with friends who did drugs. He knew a storm was coming in his life, as did everyone who loved him… but all they could do was pray. Brady had previously done drugs with his girlfriend who died the year before of Fentanyl poisoning. So, he knew it was time to get help. The young man joined a year-long recovery program and stayed clean all the way through. Brady started going to church and gave his life to Christ, and his mom traveled with his little brother from Phelps County to Branson to attend services with her son. She supported Brady’s progress in every way she could and was very proud of his success. Brady wanted to make a difference by building something enduring. So, he went back to work using the same skills that Dad and Pap-paw taught him.
Briefly, the clouds parted and revealed God’s Son, but that was all the time Brady needed for a second start… a new chance in life. While he fought a good fight against overwhelming odds, there were others who struggled on their journey too, side-by-side with him in the gloom. He stopped along the way to help them by sharing the story of his recovery. After Brady accepted Christ, he told everyone else that they could too!
With the tempest finally behind him, Brady’s future looked amazingly bright! But there were circumstances in the world beyond his ability to control. COVID-19 happened… and the church doors closed. His main source of spiritual support was gone. Consequently, the boy gradually returned to some of his previous friends. He tried one more Fentanyl trip, and it was the last trip he would ever make. God had graciously given Brady so much potential and the boy was loved by so many, but sadly he fell through the cracks… on a day almost like today.
It was a day almost like today that Brady’s mother remembered!
On a day almost like today, you were born as God’s gift to me. Bubba, from the very first breath… we were bound together in your brave struggle for life. I cried when you stumbled, but immediately celebrated your determination to rise. Although you might not know, yet my only prayer was to see you thrive… to bask in the soft kindness of your eyes… to revel in the subtle curve of your gentle smile.
And now, I struggle with the sudden awareness that your arrival and your departure are so much alike because both days brought me pain, the first in body… the last in spirit, but you will always remain the living embodiment of my love. I have watched you grow and am so incredibly proud. You lived every day to the fullest, and my heart took wings at your accomplishments.
It’s hard to imagine that twenty-five years have passed in such a short span. Oh, what I would give to relive each and every moment of that time, from the first painful day till the last… with struggles and uncertainties included. For I realize in this moment that it was not the destination that mattered most, but instead… the journey, with your hand held in mine.
Your fight was my fight, and it will always be so. Regardless of what made you leave, you go as you came, God’s special gift to me… on a day almost like today.
Dedicated to Brady’s memory… and a mother’s love.
