Some of my earliest memories of my father include a trip to the National Air and Space Museum when I was about 4 years old and him setting up a computer so I could play Age of Empires online with him and my uncle, Michael. Of course, I wasn't very skilled at the game at that point in time, but both of these experiences helped spark an interest in history that I have carried with me throughout my entire life. A bit later on down the line, he was my soccer (or, for the rest of the world: football) coach for a few different teams. I have many fond memories of travelling around for different games and I learned a lot about the importance of physical fitness through the hard work put in during practice. Many of the friendships I made with the other kids on my teams lasted through high school, and I'm grateful that I was able to be involved in something like that at such a young age. I remember helping him manage the orders for uniforms, and I still have and wear some of those gym shorts today! I will not forget those times for as long as I live.

As human beings, we are complex amalgamations of different experiences, feelings, actions, beliefs, points of view, and more. What we perceive to be the self appears differently from distinct perspectives, at different places in time, under alternate circumstances, and through different mediums of understanding. It's easy to make assertions about someone's character based on a set of experiences with them or superficial assessments, yet considerably more challenging to understand them as a human being, to see them as they are, and know why they are as such. There are also many difficult memories of my father that I will not forget.

As Nietzsche said: “All things are subject to interpretation. Whichever interpretation prevails at a given time is a function of power and not truth” and “Sometimes people don't want to hear the truth because they don't want their illusions destroyed.” Of course, Nietzsche's life ended with him as a syphilitic schizophrenic lost in an abyss of madness, trying to figure out the best way to enslave humanity -- so, as with many things, it's best to take his thought with a grain of salt.

One of the last memories I have of my father was during a period when he was struggling to get back on his feet after being faced with some serious hardships. I was one of his main supports during this period. I was finishing up graduate school and in a hardcore punk rock band at the time. We were scheduled to play a show one evening, and my father needed help with something -- it may have just been that he needed some emotional support, I don't remember exactly -- so I said "just come to the show." He came to the venue, mingled with the crowd, and saw some bands play. Afterwards, he said to me: "Before, I thought these people all worshipped the Devil, but it turns out that it's just a community of kind people who all look out for each other. Like church!" He may not have made it to see my wrestling matches while I was in high school, but he was there for that.

Denton and I are very aware of the many ups and downs, worries and desires, and good intentions Stephen had. We believe that he is now in the hands of his loving Savior and working with divine intervention to watch over you kids and to prepare for your eventual reunion. You are all so important to us and we thank Stephen for helping to bring you here for us to love and care for. It is our desire to express concern and love to his parents and siblings. They are all interesting and remarkable people, as is Stephen. We know that all things, hard or interesting as it may be, work for our good here and in the life to come! 

Love to you all!

Denton and Maxine Bramwell