Life Lessons from Jim Brine

On August 19th, 2012, lifelong resident Jim Brine lost his battle to lung cancer. On that day, the Burlington community lost a great advocate to schools, businesses and charities. Not long after his death, the JWBrineIII organization was born. The nonprofit's goal is to raise funds to provide scholarships to high school seniors who plan to go on to further their education and to provide grants for those who may be in need of help. The foundation will also make contributions to other worthy causes, including the Exceptional Children’s Foundation and the Thoracic Oncology Quality of Life Fund from MGH.

When Jim died, I wrote the below blog. I was so inspired by this man's goodwill in his life that I wanted others to read about it; I wanted others to try to practice living it. Tomorrow March 9th, JWBrineIII foundation is holding a Texas Hold'EM fundraiser at the Knights of Columbus in Burlington (see link below). If you're feeling lucky, come on down. If not, take a moment to read about Jim's life, to remember a man who knew that life was all about service to others.

Always In Our Hearts

Depending on the mood of the moment, coffee with friends can yield deep conversation or light-hearted humor.  The other day, with my girls Linda and Chris, it brought about both.  We chatted lightly and then fell into a sullen mood as we discussed our friend’s recent death, which prompted me to bring up my belief that I don’t think anything happens by coincidence.  We’ll get back to that in a second.

Last week, our friend Jim Brine died from lung cancer.  It’s one of those hit and run cancer stories that really piss you off:  48-years-old, four kids, an athlete, nonsmoker.  Cancer diagnosis to death was a year-ish.  My husband and I met Jim through his daughter, Colleen.  I would say our families knew each other casually, through the close friendship of our children, who dated throughout high school.  You know when your kids first start dating and you can only hope the family are people who share similar values?  This is what I heard about the Brine family: “What a great family.  Jim and Kathy are such nice people.”

Though I was more acquainted with Jim’s wife, Kathy, we did attend a couple of events where we socialized with Jim.  I personally viewed him as an easy going, amicable man of few words.  I don’t think that meant he didn’t have a lot to say; I just think he was more of a bullet guy than an elaborate speaker.  I do believe that when the time came for him to say something, it was something with substance.  This may not have been true in other surroundings, but it was my takeaway from what contact I had with Jim.  It wasn’t until his service that I got the full scope of this man, of how deeply embedded Jim was in the community, and just how much he touched the lives around him.

No one likes to hear about people like Jim passing away.  It’s a sobering slap of mortality, one that causes us to realize that sometimes sooner than later, we’ll be gone from this earth.  It also begs questions like, “Why Jim?  Why are there drug dealers and bad people and murderers floating around who live long lives and a guy like Jim has to die?”

Here’s part of the eulogy Kathy wrote:

He would want you all to know, that he lived his life everyday just the way he wanted to. In the very beginning of Jim’s illness, it was suggested that he make a “bucket list” of places to travel to, sights to see or things to conquer…..and to start living this list. Of course in my mind I was thinking finally! We are going to travel the world! But after very little thought Jim came to me and said that he “lived his Bucket List every day” …Jim went to work to a place he put his heart and soul into and came home to his beautiful family every night. During his illness, from diagnosis until the very end, he never asked “why me”? Jim’s biggest concern throughout his battle was that all his family and friends, especially the young people who prayed on his behalf, would be disheartened and lose their faith. Jim wanted everyone to know that the masses and prayers offered for his well-being were a source of comfort and sustained him and all his family during his illness, for which he was eternally grateful. Jim’s faith never wavered and he prayed that his illness would not cause anyone to lose their faith.

So now I’ll go back to my nothing happens by coincidence theory.  I don’t believe that people just fall into your path.  I believe that you are where you are, at this exact moment in time, for a reason.  I think that your family, your circle of friends, your past friends, your coworkers, all of them, are folks you were meant to be around, to have a connection with.  They’re people, whether it’s for a brief moment or for a lifetime, who were meant to teach you something.  That something could be a positive life lesson, or a good example of how not to behave.  Either way, it’s a lesson.  That six degrees of separation thing, the idea that we’re all, on average, approximately six steps away, by way of introduction, from any other person on Earth – I believe it.

Jim never asked why me; I’m the type of person who would have done a total Henny Penny , angry and seething and I’m sure, throwing any religious beliefs I held out the window the second I was diagnosed.  Because I would have wanted to blame God for something I don’t understand.  Because it has to be someone’s fault.  Because I’m human.  Because I’m a slow learner.

You can pick one.

This may seem juvenile to some, on track to others.  My best guess is my normal reaction to getting a disease like lung cancer wouldn’t be something I would initially (or maybe at all) handle with dignity.  My grandfather, a man of strong faith, used to say, “I don’t understand why babies or young people die and an old man like me is still alive, but God must have a reason, and it’s not mine to question.”  I not only question everything, especially young people and babies dying in a WTH way, I need to blame somebody for taking that person away, because if I can’t blame somebody, it means I have absolutely no control over what’s happening around me.  And right there, that lack of controlling things, is where we, as humans, can fall short.

I didn’t know Jim Brine by accident.  I think I was supposed to know Jim Brine and his family, and I’ll tell you why; his statement about not wanting anyone to be so angry over his death that they forget their faith moved me.  Jim knew his diagnosis wasn’t the result of a karmic arrow pointing at his head.  Instead of chucking his faith, he derived comfort in the belief that God had his back, had his family’s back.  He worried about the people his death would affect, especially young folks.  He didn’t want them to lose faith because they didn’t understand his death.  And as far as tragic death services go, Jim’s was one of the most touching I’ve ever attended.  His family’s cohesiveness and strength is something I won’t forget. The love in the room felt tangible, a testament to a man who made a positive imprint on this earth. 

So, here’s my nothing happens by coincidence combined with six degrees of separation: I’m so grateful that my son Nico met Colleen, and that I met the Brine’s.  I’m grateful that I was able to attend Jim’s service and hear more about who Jim really was.  Through his death, Jim gave me a renewed faith to want to rely on a higher being greater than myself.  Here’s a few lines from one of the readings at Jim’s service: “There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair under the heavens.  A time to be born, and a time to die.”*  By the end of the mass, there was not a dry eye in the room.  I was able to put my anger about Jim’s departure in my pocket and focus on what I took away from his words: what could I do to make a better imprint on this earth? 

I’ve decided to start by writing this blog, in the hopes that those reading it will not throw your faith, whatever faith it is, out the window the next time something bad happens to good people.  And though I don’t feel as sturdy in faith as people professed Jim was, at least now I’ll think twice before I sway off my spiritual scale just because I’m pissed off.

Though his friends and loved ones will most certainly feel the pain of his loss, Kathy put it best by saying, “…he was a friend to us all in the most simplest, truest form of a Friend….he was THAT person whom everyone turned to for guidance, for support and for his opinion and mostly for his love.”

Thank you, Jim Brine.  I’m glad it was no coincidence that our paths did cross.

Anti-up at the Hold'EM, check out the website, donate; or at the very least, remember this blog, and learn from Jim why we're here.

http://www.jwbrineiiifoundation.org/#!events/c21kz