If You Don't Like Something, CHANGE IT. If You Can't Change it, Change Your ATTITUDE.

Maya Angelou said it first. But Brandon Valentine said it most.

Let me Tell You About Brandon.

Leaving for Peace Corps was the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life. After 48 hours of basically no sleep, being overwhelmed with facts about Panama and general security procedures, dealing with staging in Washington DC, I was greeted in Panama by this warm, enthusiastic smile at the Panama City airport. 

Brandon was the first person I met in Panama. I was almost deliriously sleepy, and emotional train wreck, and in complete state of shock at the time. We had just arrived at the training compound for our introductory first few days in country. At the end of his welcoming and logistical spiel, I approached Brandon. I had an envelope of documents our staging coordinator had asked me to hand off to him. He thanked me profusely for handing him the envelope and asked me my name. I told him, and he replied, 'So you're my other Nebraskan!' and told me that he had grew up in rural Nebraska as well, that his parents were teachers now in Omaha. He pulled me into a giant, warm hug and said, 'Welcome to Panama. I am so glad to have another Cornhusker here with me!' I had traveled over 2,000 miles, but already, I felt at home. I knew I was where I was supposed to be.

I felt like I had a special connection with Brandon because of this moment, because of our shared Nebraskan roots. I did. But yesterday, at his memorial service, I realized that EVERYONE felt like they had a special connection with Brandon. He was one of those bright, positive, and energetic people that you just wanted to be around.

He was my training manager, and his sessions were bright spots in the midst of the tedious monitoring and evaluation seminars and anti-jungle fever lectures. Whether he was teaching us the sign language of public transportation or how to deal with domestic violence, he was a wealth of information and support.

Brandon grew up in Nebraska, and joined the army after that. He was a PCV in Jamaica and loved being a Volunteer so much he served again in Panama for another full 2 years, and then extended to be a regional leader. He was promoted from regional leader to training manager in 2011, and he served us faithfully and enthusiastically until he died unexpectedly of a brain aneurysm on December 22nd, 2013.

There are no words to describe the impact Brandon had. In our society, we tend to get caught up on someone's accomplishments, on their resume or list of successful projects. I have no idea what Brandon did or did not accomplish in his life. I do know that he was one of few people who could make an impact, who could change the world, simply by walking into a room. Brandon was amazing not for the outcome of the things he did, but simply for being the man he was. A father, a husband, an American, a Nebraskan, a Panamanian, a coworker, a friend, a leader, an adviser, a true Peace Corps Volunteer at heart.

Brandon would tell us, 'The world has too many people that want to change the world. What it really needs is people that want to change themselves.' My service in Panama has done nothing if not teach me the truth to this statement daily. We are not in control of anything or anyone. We are not in control of society, nature, time, or happenstance. The only thing we can control, the only thing we can change, is how we react to the things beyond our control. And that tiny change can have a dramatic impact.

Yesterday was a memorial service for Brandon. The entire Peace Corps office staff attended, Peace Corps Volunteers from all over the country in every group and every region showed up to honor his memory. But what really got me, what sent goosebumps down my spine, were not the Americans in attendance. It has been 6 years since Brandon left his Panamanian community, and yet many of them showed up to share their love for their redheaded Nebraska son. Counterparts he worked with for just a year-maybe less- from various Panamanian government agencies traveled out to share their memories of this great man. The people of Panama truly loved him. Panama and America grieved together over their shared loss.

Brandon was a bright spot in Peace Corps Panama. He was constantly smiling, I can hear his laughter in my head, and his words of encouragement and support had no end. He was silly, and a prankster. He was real. He'd tell you what was up, he would let you know when you needed to suck it up and tough it out, but he would do so in a way that you felt like your struggles were understood, valued, and important. He cheered with you in your successes and motivated you in your moments of failure. 

Like I said, I felt like I had a special connection with Brandon. It turns out, Brandon had the ability to make everyone he met feel special and important. It takes an incredibly special person to be like this. Peace Corps, the people of Panama, the United States, and Nebraskans, lost an incredibly special person, but I don't feel the sharp pangs of grief one might expect from such a tragedy. I don't feel like crying when I think about how he is no longer a part of this world.

Why? Not because I don't care. Because he lived his life with such joy, such light, such enthusiasm for life that I cannot help but smile every time I think of him.

When I grow up, I want to be just like Brandon.