I headed down to Provo this morning to set up for the dive meet. I ended up working there for about three hours. I came home, ate lunch and headed back to BYU with Stockton. There were so many people there! It was crazy! Stockton got registered for the meet and I asked his coach if I could just take him home. He didn't want me to. I should have done it anyway. We stayed for two hours and Stockton only got about five dives in. I hurried home, dropped him off and headed to the park to pick up Jorja. Matt had taken her to her softball practice, thank goodness!
Stockton
Rachel's family got the heartbreaking news today that it was Nigel's body that was found. I am so glad his body was found, it would have been even worse not knowing. Rachel's brother Malcolm wrote about Nigel. This is part of what he said.
Nigel was such a good big brother. My heart swells each time I think about getting one more of his big bear hugs or to hear his contagious chuckle. He was so stalwart in his faith in God despite trials that would've hardened the softest of hearts. He abstained from drugs and alcohol his entire life, while it would've been so easy for him to slip into them. While Nigel's last days were more tragic than anyone who knew and loved him could bare to imagine, they serve as an exclamation point to the trials and tribulations of his life, and the millions who suffer quietly with mental illness.
I feel that "mental illness" is a blanket term most of us use to identify those who appear or act different than the rest, but I feel even more that it is a vague expression we employ to avoid grappling with the many headed serpent that is the broken brain. Afflictions of the mind come in all degrees and varieties but my brother was only fifteen years old when he was struck with a harrowing loss of something we take for granted every day: the ability to experience reality through a clear lens, and to engage in it with the full joy humans were intended to.
Nigel fought so hard for the last fifteen years, and wanted so badly to be seen as "normal", that he kept his battle as private as possible. Each year his condition worsened and every time he lost touch with his mind, we lost a little more of our poor Nigel. In his final days he would've loved seeing all of you who searched so hard and prayed so hard for him.
This is not a normal post about a lost loved one because Nigel's death was not normal. I would not normally go into such detail about something so private but Nigel's story deserves to be told truthfully.
Nigel didn't deserve to be treated like a criminal, and so many of us are left behind on earth to wonder, how could someone like him be chased into the hills only to die of exposure and be left to decompose in the wilderness?
We've come a long way from the dark ages, executing and imprisoning people who are sick and suffering, but not far enough. My brother needed a hospital and professional attention but instead received a jail cell. Even though multiple people within the Gem County Sheriffs department knew of Nigel's illness and had known him for years, and even though our family pleaded for help in transporting Nigel to a hospital, the policy of the Emmett Police Department and the Gem County Sheriffs department is to refuse all "Mental holds", or transport of mentally ill persons unless they pose a danger to themselves or others as determined by an officer or deputy.
They gave him a court date and released him on bail.
Nigel was free and his condition was only worsening. The very next day, Sunday April 10, would be the last time I got to see my big brother. The police were contacted again as Nigel succumbed to the aggression that is often associated with the throws of mania, and he was stopped on foot at the mouth of Little Gem Cycle Park. As two Deputies attempted to hand cuff him, he fled into the baron hills that would lead him to his resting ground.
According to the coroner, Nigel most likely died of hypothermia. Although we may never know for sure what happened in his last hours, we know that there has never been a soul more ready for their creator's embrace than our Nigel.
While Nigel would want us to forgive those who could have prevented this, he would not want us to let this happen to anyone else.
Nigel would not want us to cry for him. He is released from chains that most of us will never feel the weight of. He is light, he is joyful, he is in good company, but I know he wants his death to have meaning.
To change how someone else like him is treated.
To face the homeless and prison epidemic fueled by our inaction to help those who only wish to be loved and treated with compassion.
So go out and love someone today. Know someone with bipolar? Know someone with schizophrenia? Know someone with depression? Know someone who can't step on the crack in the sidewalk?
TALK TO THEM!
Ask them questions! The policy and budget of our nation can only be changed to help those suffering if we make our voices heard. It's 2016 and we are late. It's past the time we enter into a new enlightened era of awareness for our brothers and sisters burdened by mental grief.
I love you all so much and thank you so much to anyone who made a difference in my Nigel's life. I know he is hard at work right now and he expects us to do the same.
Nigel, you've helped me grow so much, and I want so badly to be like you when I make it there. Love you buddy.
