Charles Eads Brown

The purpose was to use the obituary as the guiding principle for life - a road map, so to speak. This seemed like a stupid exercise. I was going to live forever. Well, here we are.

It wouldn’t have mattered. I was never much of a planner. I opted to mostly stumble through life, without the guidance of a pre-written obituary. Turns out, I’m a pretty good stumbler.

I was fortunate from the get-go. Born in Galveston, Texas in 1958 to wonderful, loving parents Gilmore Wooten Brown, MD, and Geneva Brown. We moved to Austin when I was three years old. I grew up during the sweet spot of Austin’s history, back when South by Southwest was just directions to Dripping Springs. Fishing in Bull Creek, playing tennis at Caswell, poker games in Billy T’s garage, listening to live music, hunting trips, jogging around Town Lake followed by jumping in Barton Springs.

The most fortunate unplanned moment in my life was meeting and marrying my extraordinary wife, Cathylynn. Cathylynn and I shared so many adventures together.

Cathylynn blessed me with Brandon, Lilly and Wilson. They are my greatest achievements for whom Cathylynn was mostly responsible. I want them to know I cherished every athletic event, theater production, conversation. It was my undeserving honor and greatest pride to be their Dad.

I had countless family members, friends, mentors, role models, too numerous to mention.

Then I stumbled into the mother of all things unplanned-ALS a/k/a Lou Gehrig’s disease. ALS is a horrific disease with no cure and very little treatment. But, in a strange way, it was a blessing. It altered my perspective. It forced me to slow down. It revealed unimaginable kindness and love.

Cathylynn was my fiercest advocate. I am thankful she will finally get some relief. She more than deserves it. As do Brandon, Lilly, and Wilson, and my brother Larry, who paused their lives to assist with my care. Friends delivered meals and checked in to see if I needed anything. With so many fighting as hard as possible to extend my life, I found the inspiration to keep battling.

So, you see, in the category of ‘things which I didn’t plan’ or even ‘things I don’t deserve,’ I still came out way ahead.

One last thing about a terminal illness- it forces a certain introspection. I feel guilty about all the times I had a friend or loved one who I should have called or visited when they were ill. I failed to do so because I felt awkward or didn’t know what to say. I now know all you have to say is “I’m thinking about you.” That’s enough.

If I could leave you with some guiding principle, I suppose it would be three simple words: “Just be nice”.

In lieu of flowers or a donation, do this - reach out to someone who you know is sick or hurting or having some other difficulty and let them know that you’re thinking about them. Just be nice. So many of you were to me. I hope I was to you.