BACKBrian’s Eulogy, June 9, 1999, Holy
Family Church
Given by Rachel Muha
Early one morning, while it was still dark, some men came. And they took Our Lord and they beat Him. They hit Him in the face and they spat on Him. But that wasn’t enough to satisfy them. They took Him to a hill and made Him climb it. And on the top of Calvary, they crucified him. They killed Our Lord and His blood poured out on the groound - consecrating it and us. He was innocent of any wrongdoing. All He ever did was love. But His life and death brought us Heaven.
Early last Monday morning, while it was still dark and Brian was asleep, some men came. And they beat our Brian. Badly. And probably shot him. But that wasn’t enough to satisfy them. They took him to a hill and they made him climb it. And on the top of Brian’s Calvary, they killed him in a horrible way. His blood poured out, making it holy ground - a precious piece of earth. He was innocent of any wrongdoing. All he ever did was have fun and love. But his life and death has brought us great blessings.
We all know different Brians - or different sides of our Brian.
You little ones, the cousins - Brian loved you and loved playing with you. Chris and Brian are the oldest boy cousins so whenever there was a holiday we would go up to Cleveland but for the boys it would be a marathon play time - the little ones would climb on them, wrestle with them, play every game imaginable, and it was non-stop - until it was time to eat when they would fight over who sat next to Chris and Brian. When the day was over and we would get back in the car to come home to Columbus the boys would be exhausted - but happy.
Those of you who were friends of Brian knew him as someone who was shy at first, but then when he knew you, he loved to tease and play jokes and have fun - and wear funny, false teeth. And he wanted to excel. He loved to play football and when he got the ball he would put his head down and his legs would spin as fast as a cartoon character’s do - trying to get to the end zone. To reach the goal. To succeed. To please the coach and his team and his family.
That beautiful song you heard before Mass started was sung by Sarah Gazzo, Brian’s girlfriend. Sarah knew a Brian none of us knew. He could be himself with her, confide in her. She gave him a special friendship - a special love - and for that I will always be grateful and always love her.
And Christopher. Christopher knew Brian as a brother. Brian loved Christopher and wanted Chris’ admiration - which Chris gave freely. They drew strength from each other, depended on each other, loved each other very much.
The Brian I knew is the little toddler who would flip himself out of his crib as fast as I could put him in and march himself down the hall as if to say, "I am not going to sleep in the middle of the day, I have too much playing to do." He usually won that stand-off.
The Brian I knew is the little 5 year old who insisted, for a long time, on wearing a dress shirt and tie, dress pants and suit coat and dress shoes, everywhere we went, which meant to the grocery store with me or to Chris’ soccer games. You see, underneath that dress shirt was a Superman shirt. He wasn’t Brian Muha anymore, he was Clark Kent and we had to call him that. And every once in awhile he would open up that dress shirt to show everyone else who he really was. He wanted to be Superman - he wanted to help people in distress. Later on he translated that into wanting to become a doctor. Now, as Chris thinks about the priesthood, we would say how Brian will heal bodies while Chris heals souls. We would tease that Bri will wear a Superman shirt under his lab coat. But now, Brian is healing souls - and mending hearts - and binding us in love. Please don’t lose the grace of this moment. Cling to love.
The Brian I knew is the 10 year old who, after hearing a story about how our sins are like pounding a nail in Jesus’ hands or feet he said to me, "Mom! You should have told me that sooner!" As if he had done anything wrong in his ten years.
The Brian I knew is the boy who that as long as there was a 6" wide path from the bedroom door to the bed, his room was clean; who thought that a balanced diet meant a chocolate milk shake in the morning, tostitos and salsa for lunch, and a rare steak for dinner; who thought that alarm clocks were made for moms only; who bought me a stuffed animal for Christmas every year; who kissed his mother every morning and every night, and every time he left the house or came home; who said I love you every time he said good-bye. I am so grateful that those are the last words we said to each other when he called Sunday night at 6:30 to say he arrived in Steubenville safely.
When I got the phone call Monday afternoon and heard the voice say, "Mrs. Muha, this is Detective Lelless from the Steubenville Police...your son Brian is missing", I had three great hopes: first, that we would find Brian alive; second, that I could see and hold my Brian again, alive or not; and third, that if I couldn’t have Brian back alive, that I could see the place where he met Our Lord. Well, Brian is not alive - not on earth - but he is in Heaven and that gives me the greatest happiness. I did not get to see or hold my Brian one more time, and that gives me great sorrow and pain - my arms still ache. But I did get to go to the place where he died. I climbed the hill that Brian climbed and kissed the ground where Brian died, and there is a beautiful canopy of wild white roses that are over the spot that I know were a gift from Our Blessed Mother. And that is a great consolation.
My dear Brian, I love you.