In my feelings.
This is a tough one.
Greetings, readers.
I’ve been quiet for a few weeks, and I owe you an update. There’s a lot on my heart right now. Maybe you’re feeling that, too.
About two weeks ago now, I had my first seizure in nearly five years. And then I had another one. It’s such an emotionally confusing thing to share because a) I have zero memory of these events, and b) honestly, truly, I am fine.
I wrote about my journey with epilepsy here, if you’re interested in learning more about seizures or seizure first aid. Seizures are relatively common: the CDC says one in ten Americans will likely have a seizure in their lifetime. That means we’re all likely to witness one.
In the wake of a seizure, I feel profoundly tired and confused and emotionally rattled. This time, I slept on and off for about three days. An increased dosage of medication has left me feeling generally drowsy, and I am presently sleeping about ten hours a night. That said, I’ve dealt with this condition since I was a teen: none of this is new to me.
Thankfully, I’ve already had the opportunity to speak to my neurologist (hi, Dr. Hammoudi). I have a good understanding of what triggered these seizures (sleep deprivation; dumb ass) and a renewed recognition of my own limits. My brain is unique, and I need to take special care of it.
When I came back into the world post-seizure, I received news that hit me like a truck.
I struggle to type it, honestly.
Brad Halverson graduated from Nordhoff High School in 2004, one year ahead of me. He died suddenly from a heart attack on August 27th. He was preparing to marry his partner, Nicole Jahng, in October.
I didn’t know Brad well; I knew him the way you know someone you grow up with — through mutual friends and smiles around town. I know Brad’s father as a member of Ojai’s School Board. I remember his older sister as a fellow Ojai horse girl.
If you live locally, you’d know Brad by the diverse talents he shared with the community: as a multi-instrumentalist who contributed to Nordhoff High School’s annual musical, or as builder who has erected literal infrastructure across our valley.
Typing Brad’s name in this context feels intolerable and wrong. And of course, given my own medical event, I feel shocked by the knowledge that I regained consciousness, and Brad did not. I cannot make sense of this — there is no sense in this.
The only thing I know for sure is that news of Brad’s tragic passing jolted me out of the self-pity in which I was stewing. Because I’m still here. We are all still here.
When I don’t know what or how to feel, I write. So, knowing that the Ojai Valley News (OVN) would cover Brad’s passing, I reached out to my friends at the paper and asked if I could do it.
I get impulses about stories sometimes — I simply must write the thing. This was one such scenario. I pitched the story to the OVN on Tuesday. Editor Marianne Ratcliff gave Brad’s story an entire page in today’s paper. That’s an extraordinary act of care from our local newspaper. I’m thankful to live in a community where such things are possible.
Many of the individuals I interviewed for Brad’s story are folks I know personally. He and I share a few close friends in common. I was particularly moved by this image of Brad and our mutual friend Rubén Salinas, both of whom became tremendous musicians through the Nordhoff High School music department.
I was prepared for this interview process to devastate me — and it did — but there was laughter and joy, too. This little anecdote from Nordhoff Music Director Bill Wagner delighted me.
“It was Brad’s junior year that he decided instead of playing in the orchestra pit, he wanted to be on stage.” The musical that year was ‘Fiddler on the Roof.’ “He came in at the last minute to take the audition and sang ‘Happy Birthday’ for us,” Wagner recalled with a laugh. “Not prepared at all.” Halverson was cast in the lead role as Tevye. “He had a gift, obviously,” Wagner remarked.
Brad’s passing is undeniably, intolerably tragic. But his story is also inspiring — because so much of it is about service to the community. Take this story from another one of our mutual high school classmates:
Kelly Nimmer, who attended school with Brad, remembers reconnecting with her old classmate on the first night of the Thomas Fire: Dec. 4, 2017. Kelly, who owns Mission Beekeeping with her husband, Steve Nimmer, described being woken up by a phone call around midnight, with the news that her family’s 160 beehives in West Ventura were in the path of the blaze. Kelly pleaded for assistance on Facebook. Brad, then based in Oxnard, answered her call.
“He spent the entire night moving dozens of beehives onto Steve’s trailer until dawn, saving our young business,” Kelly remembered. “The whole time he was relaxed, good-spirited, and steadfast.” Brad was wearing flip-flops throughout the evacuation, Steve added, getting stung repeatedly without complaint.
Brad helped the Nimmers save half their hives that night, Kelly remembered, and stood with the couple in solidarity while the flames engulfed the rest. “We will never forget his spirit of generosity that night. Instead of running away from the fire, he ran toward it, for no reason other than to help.”
Brad shared his gifts with the community. I am inspired to do the same thing, in my way. Perhaps you are too.
And readers, I regret to inform you that I have more sad news to report. The day after Brad passed, another member of our community followed: John Brooks.
John was one of my most enthusiastic readers and supporters. We shared a love for journalism, social justice, and our natural environment. Every time I issued a story, I could bet money on John being the first person to share it. And when I was late issuing a promised story — he’d ask me where the hell it was 😂 .
John is survived by his partner, Fran. There is a lovely tribute to John in today’s Ojai Valley News, written by Marianne Ratcliff.
So, readers, I’m a puddle of feelings. Life is brutal, and it is beautiful.
We’re here. And it will not last.
May we all make the most of the time we have.
With love and care to all of our community members in grief right now,
Andra
Beautiful tributes, Andra, despite it being an awfully challenging time for yourself. Love and strength to you. You are a gem.
hang tough out there hero