It amazes me how tying my 4-year old son Dylan’s shoes brings back a flood of memories of Brian. Brian was Dylan’s Godfather and they both wore Adidas Samba soccer shoes. There was always a cute exchange between the two of them whenever they saw each other to see if they were both wearing their Sambas. Whether they were or not, Brian could always engage an enlightened conversation with our inquisitive little boy.
I met Brian almost 30-years ago at JMU when Brian Gracie and I pledged the fraternity that Walsh joined the year before as a freshman. Amongst other things that were required during pledging, we had to memorize a handful of Latin phrases one of which translates to Nothing Shall Ever Tear Us Asunder. The Latin translation is something that our circle of friends would repeat to one another on occasion out of jest. However, when I heard the news of Brian’s passing I could not get that phrase out of my head and still find myself repeating it when I think of Brian. It is no surprise to me that Walsh remained one of my closest friends and confidants since our time together at JMU. He was one of, if not the only person that I could comfortably talk to about anything whether personal, financial or professional.
As we all move on to other chapters of our lives, marriage, kids, etc. most people tend to socialize more with parents of kids that interact with their own kids. Lauryn and I were fortunate enough that our oldest son Tucker is the same age as Sean and the two have been very close friends since they were born as we lived two doors down from the Walsh’s in Loveton Farms. They went through elementary school together, rode the bus together and have played basketball and lacrosse together for the past several years. Walsh and I have coached together and spent countless hours on the sidelines as spectators cheering the kids on. Some of my fondest memories of Walsh are when we would spend time together on his patio or in our front yard after carpooling duties. The kids would always coax us into staying and having a beer or two together. Of course, we never needed much convincing.
Like everyone, we have so many memories of Brian. He liked to tell the story of how he took Amy to my parent’s house for their first date. He told her one of his fraternity brothers was having a party. Little did she know the crowd would be a little older than she expected. Brian worked the crowd like he usually does and Amy obviously decided to stick around.
One of the hardest things Lauryn and I have had to do as parents was to break the news to Tucker of the passing of Sean’s father, not only a dear friend to me and Lauryn but to Tucker as well. Seeing the pain in our child’s resulting tears caused by something other than a skinned knee or hurt feelings that would be long forgotten in a few days, but instead his first experience of mourning the loss of a loved one was a difficult task for us.
I was with Walsh at Sean and Tuckers’ indoor lacrosse game the night before he died. I then had to go to his house later that night to borrow something before they headed to Orlando the next morning. He was a bit stressed over what he and Amy still had to do to get out the door the next morning. We reflected on the game that night and the on-going basketball evaluations as he was the commissioner for our kid’s age group, no surprise. Had I known what fate had in store for my dear friend the next morning, I would have grabbed onto him and held on for dear life. We said goodbye and I of course never thought it would be our final goodbye. No one would ever want to say a final goodbye to Brian Walsh. Nothing shall ever tear us asunder my friend.
Story submitted by Curt Morris