Remembering Bryn Kelly: 3 Wise Things Bryn Said
Wise. And snarky. But you knew that, right?
First, a secret: Recently, I sent an editor a PDF of an article I had written for a now-defunct website. It was supposed to support my pitch.
The editor replied, "I'm impressed with your transparency in not removing the negative comments on your piece."
I wasn't being transparent. When I hit "print" plus "save as PDF," I hadn't noticed the witty, cutting, and altogether ACCURATE two-paragraph criticism also included on the downloaded pages.
Although I was embarrassed at my less-than-stellar attention to detail, the interaction mostly made me smile because the comment was an unexpected posthumous gift from our friend Bryn Kelly, who died on Jan 13th, 2016.
I know it was Bryn because she used a nickname only she used for me, and because anonymous cleverly written shit stirring on the internet was one of Bryn's greatest loves.
Bryn's death left a huge hole in so so so many lives, but today I want to focus on her life and what I learned from her:
You're from where you're from.
When a beloved church lady co-worker told me she was singing in a choir with evangelical Christian 80s icon Sandi Patty, I immediately bought two tickets.
If I had asked politely, many folks in my life would have accompanied me. As a favor. I mean, a few years ago, a very patient and generous high school friend went with me to the Drive-In Christian Church we attended in my teenage years.
But I knew of all my progressive Brooklyn friends, Bryn–and Bryn alone–would truly enjoy it.
Bryn and I both grew up in rural areas, in evangelical households. For a very long time, she was the only person who knew that I still watched Joyce Meyer every morning.
"Baggage is only heavy if you don't know where the handles are," Bryn told me.
If you know Bryn, you know that's not what she said. But imagine a more clever metaphor with three times the snark and all the love.
On a very much related note:
It took what it took
Many years ago, as a baby queer dealing with guilt, trauma and a very bad haircut (I didn't know about barbers yet) I engaged in a number of self-destructive activities. And I have the scars to prove it.
Once when I joked about these now decades old aforementioned scars, Bryn touched my arm and said "I'm glad for them. It meant you did what you needed to do to survive. And that now you're here with me, making me eat terrible frozen pizza."
Community is built in strength AND vulnerability.
In 2013, I had an emergency washout surgery on an infected knee replacement. It was decidedly unpleasant. I came out of the OR with tubes everywhere and pain they couldn't get under control.
They kept me overnight in the recovery room, and because it was the middle of the night and also a holiday, they let my circle of friends come and sit around the bed.
When the nurse fetched this assembled group of friends (including Bryn) from the waiting room, she asked, "Are you the Dunham family?"
One friend said, "Ah, but we look like the Adams family, right?" The nurse reportedly made no reply, which was a wise choice.
When I had to pee, they wheeled the entire bed over near the bathroom, and I looked at Bryn and said, "Um, are we the kind of friends who…" and before I even finished the sentence, Bryn was up and helping me to the toilet.
Helping someone pee can be difficult under even fairly normal (normal?) circumstances.
But this was a mess. And I was a huge mess.
A few years later, I FB messaged Bryn.
Me: I am with —---- who just had surgery and I'm telling her all about the all-night recovery party we had where you helped me pee.
Bryn: For you, I assume that was not a fun night, but I will actually treasure it fondly for many reasons #friendship.
With those 19 words, Bryn completely changed my framing and feeling about that night.
She treasured my vulnerability, and I will always be grateful for that.
PS IMPORTANT PLEASE SHARE:
REGISTRATION LINK IS HERE
Even though Bryn hated the name of the Casserole workshop (because she once brought me a casserole. And also talked with my mom about Jesus for 45 minutes!) please come out tomorrow night and talk about building our extended care networks!
We’ll talk about questions like: what can a healthcare buddy do? How can I find a healthcare buddy? How do I talk myself into asking for help? How we can structure our caregiving so everyone gets what they need? And anything else that makes sense to chat about!
RIP Bryn, can't believe it's been 9 years....
And Kelli, yes to virtual QM please.