I think about the last time me and Brian hung out and I never would imagine I would be standing in front of you a few weeks later, giving a speech honoring him and his life.
I know he’s among us right now, probably wearing one of his many police t-shirts, sneakers, jeans, his arms crossed with a smile on his face, just waiting for me to express how much he means to me, while thinking to himself, ‘Man, this is gonna be good.’
Brian was the definition of what a man is supposed to be and he was the rock in our family. He was not only 100-percent devoted to being a wonderful father and a husband, but that devotion carried on to his job as well.
Brian played many roles in my life. Not only was he my big brother, he was my best friend. I always looked up to him and that was the main reason I wanted to become a police officer myself. We had conversations ranging from car stops to comparing which one of us was the better-looking Lorenzo. I think he won that one.
After our father passed, I began to see Brian as a father figure also. I jokingly called Brian a tumor because you could never get rid of him. Surprised by the analogy at first, it did make him chuckle from time to time. Although it didn’t seem like I appreciated all of his efforts then, I fully understood his intentions. He was always about family and mending the bonds and relationships to keep family together. In his quiet way, he helped mold me into the man and the police officer I am today.
Early in my career, I used to joke about how bothered I’d be when someone would come up to me and say, ‘Oh, you’re Brian’s little brother.’ But in truth, I was really honored by it and now I’m realizing I have some big shoes to fill.
I miss Brian so much already. I struggle with his death every day and often wonder why such an honorable man can be taken from us so suddenly. But I hear him in the background saying, ‘Everything will be okay.’ At least I will always have the memories of our domino games, late-night chats by the well-loved fire pit, and kicking his butt in horse shoes.
Brian, I love you.
Throughout his 48 years of life, 23 years on the police department, it’s apparent that he touched so many lives. He would have been proud to know that he was well respected, and that even the slightest moments in his life have made such a lasting impression on the lives of countless people. Just take a look around. Thank you.