My whole life I prayed for a brother. I pleaded with God for someone to share the day to day grind of life with. And as always God answered, and not nearly in the way that I expected. I met Austin Bernardy in 2012, freshmen year of high school. In front of me was a smaller, wiry kid with long brown hair (think Carl in the Walking Dead), a Giants hat on, and Eric Church radiating from his headphones. We had one class together, and in that class we didn’t talk all that much. We were friendly, I had seen him at church, made eye contact, shook his hand, but never got to know him. And as all good friendships start off, we nearly took each other’s heads off. There was this girl, who I had liked and in traditional Nick fashion, blew that up. A few days later the Kid with the Giants hat was was sitting and eating lunch with this girl, and I was about 3 seconds away from throwing those hard as baseballs milk cartons they hand out at lunch in his face. And sure enough a while went by, and in typical guy fashion, the apologies lasted about 30 seconds, and we were right back to debating who was better; the Dodgers or the Giants.
When I moved to town I knew people, but my parents worked full time, and didn’t have to drive me around. I was far too young and broke for a car, but there was this kid, who lived about a mile and a half from me, about 5 minutes by bike, at the end of C street. So we started hanging out. Not really because we actually liked each other, but we become more or less geographically inclined friends.
As time rolled by, it became alarmingly apparent that we were both broke, so we would put our 4 bucks together in change, and ride our longboards/bikes to the get ice cream and sweet tea. And in that time we began to realize how different we both were. And the real friendship began to grow. Me; the loud, aggressive, smart mouth who would rather fire-ready-aim. And then there was Austin, who took no sooner than 4 years to get halfway through a cheeseburger. He was calculated, quiet, cautious, and always watching. And over the years, as all good friendships do, we brought out the best in each other. Him teaching me, that sometimes it’s good to be quiet, sit back and watch and listen, and me bringing out the comic, and the wild side.
Over the years we did it all. We laughed, made mistakes, got lost a few times, broke some stuff, celebrated, grew our faith, got our hearts broken, and kept moving. We went through sickness(screw cancer), loss, and growth. When you spend a minimum of 50 hours a week with someone for 3 and a half years, you go through it all. Family, work, girls, God, guns, trucks, and adventures. We went through the quiet times, and the times where we raised some cane. Don’t get me wrong, we nearly took each others heads off. We were about one level head from a brawl in a foreign country, in a church parking lot, and outside my house. But he was brother. We went to the same school, worked at the same ranch, church, and restaurant. He showed me Country, I showed him things that didn’t have a banjo. And to this day I’m forever grateful.
(I’m getting there-now to the serious)
Austin, is leaving for Navy in two days he will be en route to chicago, and eventually a nuclear engineer. And with this mission trip I may not see him for two years. And I’ve kicked and screamed, gone on long drives, hit the bag and the road, trying to get myself ready. Because when God decides to move he does it in His own timing and not mine. And what I would give to sit on a beach or the side of a cliff with a few bottles of Coke, and a sandwich and talk trucks, God, politics or girls with my best friend; that’s immense. I am beyond proud in the lessons in which I’ve learned and the times that we spent growing into young men. And after a few mental breakdowns my only wish, is to write a piece that honors me and my brother, as we enter into the next chapter of life. From all the inside jokes, to the oil and grease stained flannels and jeans, to the cliffs that holds our footholds-to my brother thank you. I’ve been in my own head screaming at God, furious, and angry. And yet at the same time I thankful. I am honored to have gone from a kid starting fights on the football field, to a young man striving to make his loved ones proud, through patience, love, and wisdom.
“I hope you strive your whole life, to be humble. Respect women. Take your hat off at the table. Don’t start a fight, don’t ever run from one neither. Forgive. Forget. Speak true. Listen to your gut. Be kind, be patient and be firm. Measure twice, cut once. Take your shot, and love more than don’t.”
Above all else, I surrender. I submit, and I lay this down at the Cross. I lay my hurt down, my anger at being separated from one of m, my pack. I’m thankful, and I eager. I’m hopeful for this next part of life as we write our separate chapters. The way in which I have seen my brother honor his life, family, God and country makes me want to be a better man. And to inspire me to do the right thing. Who knows, maybe that’s what brought me to this Race.
And so finally, here we are; at the end of a chapter. I don’t know what the next page reads like exactly, but I know a few things. I love you as a brother, respect you and am thankful for you as a friend, and am proud of you as man. Godspeed brother. I’m with you to the end of road.
