How We Let Death Become Life (Part 2)

To continue my article on death overshadowing life, I will go into detail about Brandon's death and the effect it had on me. His life was not the movie 'The Crow'. He was not Eric Draven. For a long time, I , like many still do today, equated his life with his tragic death, the circumstances, and ultimately, the character Eric Draven. In all of the eulogies that are out there on the web for him, his life has become that of Eric Draven, not Brandon Bruce Lee. I was watching one of the many interview shows about Brandon. It dawned on me how little we, the fans, knew about Brandon. We can go into detail about his life on the screen and what we know from interviews, but we really didn't know him like the friends and family he was around knew him. While watching one of these programs I realized he and I shared a common bond. We both had fathers larger than life in our eyes, fathers from whom we would feel a great shadow. This is something that is totally outside 'The Crow' or anything else that a lot of people use to equate a connection with Brandon. My father is a highly decorated U.S. Army veteran. Most of the males in my family are serving, or have served, in some capacity, in the armed forces. I always felt the pressure of following in his footsteps. Somehow, my future was pre-destined to follow his course, yet I rebelled against that. I wanted to succeed in the armed forces, but under my terms. Subsequently I joined the Air Force, not the Army. I had a very successful four-year career. Yet I felt my path was headed in a different direction. I was good at what I was doing, but somehow that was not enough. I was tired of the shadow that followed me. Even in my successes, I still felt a comparison to my dad. I felt he was not proud of me because I chose a different path. Finally, a year ago, my dad told me how proud he was of me. I had accomplished, in his eyes, great things. That simple gesture allowed me to step out of the shadow. I feel Brandon was in search of that same vindication. He was searching for the one thing that would separate him from his shadow. My memory of Brandon's life has nothing to do with The Crow. It has nothing to do with any of his movies or interviews. My memory of Brandon's life is contained in a couple of home movie frames that I saw a few years back. They were of him and his dad playing. One was when Brandon was less than a year old; his father was carrying him on his back. The look in Bruce and Brandon's eyes is priceless. They both loved each other very much. In another home movie, Brandon and his father were performing martial arts moves for the camera. I would say he was about two years old. He seemed to be pulling away from his dad, getting some distance to do his own moves, but his dad was right there, in the camera's view, right next to him, his shadow. You could see the determined look on Brandon's face, even at that age, to make his dad proud, yet be distanced from the shadow. To me, Brandon's death cheapens his life. That was not Brandon. His life was not that of a tragic accident. It was more about the love he had for Eliza, his mother, family, friends, and life itself. The home movies are the closet thing to the real Brandon any of us will ever know. Always somehow close to his father, yet trying to step from his shadow. I hope Brandon looked at those home movies when he was older because you could see in Bruce's eyes that Brandon was already all he had ever hoped for, he was already proud. Brandon's vindication was already there. So instead of memories of a painted face, or a prefabricated Hollywood image as my memory of Brandon's life, mine is much simpler. It is an image of that little boy who was riding on his father's back and later living in his father's shadow. It is an image of a boy who was proud of his father and though still wanting to be like him, wanted to make his own mark. Those are images not unlike those of my own life.

Remember life……take care

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