Simple Gifts: an unorthodox obituary for my brother Pete O’Brien

By Michael Patrick O’Brien–

My departed older brother, Kevin Peter (“Pete”) O’Brien Jr., lived a complicated life and died a complicated death. And yet, it is a 175-year old Shaker song about simplicity that fills my mind when I think of him.

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‘Tis the gift to be simple, ‘tis the gift to be free,

‘Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gain‘d,

To bow and to bend we will not be asham‘d,

To turn, turn will be our delight,

Till by turning, turning we come round right.

***

I think the best parts of Pete’s life were the simple gifts he gave to others.

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He was born on October 9, 1955 in Shreveport, Louisiana, the gift of a first son to Irish Catholic parents from Vermont—Kevin Peter (“Obie”) O’Brien, Sr. and Kathleen (“Kay”) Mavourneen Gleason O’Brien.

Pete also gave the gift of a brother to his two older sisters, Maureen (“Moe”) Theresa and Karen Jean, and to his younger brother Michael Patrick.

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One winter day, Pete the toddler bundled up in his winter coat and boots and went outside to play. Pete’s mother Kay stayed indoors. Soon the doorbell rang. Kay answered and saw her smiling young son standing there. “I made a snowman for you,” he said proudly. She looked towards the yard but saw nothing. “Where?” she asked. “Right here,” Pete said, pointing to the door threshold. His mother looked down and saw two small snowballs at her feet, each the size of a toddler’s hand, stacked one upon the other. Kay smiled too.

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As a boy, Pete had red hair and big freckles. He liked to build models and play the drums.

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Pete’s niece Kaylin Taylor loves a story her grandmother—Pete’s mother— often told about him. As a boy, Pete announced he was running away and packed his bag. He was positive his mom would beg him to stay, but instead Kay made him a sandwich for his travels. He left with his sandwich, ate it, and returned home later that same day.

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Pete’s parents got divorced when he was a teenager. This was hard, and it effected his success in school. Yet, he always did well in shop class. He was so skilled, he eventually built a motorcycle himself. He loved motorcycles for the rest of his life.

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In 1977, Pete met and fell in love with a tall, beautiful young woman from Ogden named Della Meisner. They got married and soon afterwards did the best thing either one has ever done—they gave life to a beautiful baby daughter named Bonnie Jean.

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Pete’s siblings vividly remember how very excited he was to be Bonnie’s father.

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Pete liked to build and fix things, and he was pretty good at it. He seemed happiest when he had some such job to do with his hands, especially if it was for someone else.

***

He went into police work to help others. Pete’s brothers/sisters in blue knew him as a dedicated, exceptional officer and as a good man. As he gained seniority on the Roy City police force, he often volunteered to work holidays so that other officers could be home with their young children.

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“My favorite memory is being so proud of him when I saw him in his police uniform—with his squad car. He epitomized what a good police officer should be: calm, compassionate, fair, dignified, both commanding and giving respect. And so much more.” (Memory from sister Karen O’Brien Taylor.)

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Pete’s young niece Katie Taylor, and his little nephews Brad Thorsted and Michael Thorsted, each liked different parts of Pete’s police work, such as his badge, his siren, and of course, his firearm!

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In September 1991, while working as an undercover narcotics officer, Pete saved the life of another person when a sting operation went bad. Pete had to take the life of a suspected drug dealer who was shooting at them. Pete acted justifiably, but he also was a gentle soul, and this difficult moment always troubled him. In fact, it changed him forever.

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In March of 1992, Utah Attorney General Paul Van Dam gave Pete the Robert B. Hutchings Officer of the Year Award. The annual award goes to a member of the Utah Narcotic Officers Association for exemplary performance in a hazardous or life threatening situation, honoring officers who go above and beyond the call of duty by demonstrating extraordinary bravery, dedication, and innovation.

***

Pete’s sister-in-law Vicki O’Brien loved watching Pete interact with all of his nieces and nephews.

“My favorite thing was to always rub his bald head!” (Memory from niece Erin O’Brien Dahlberg.)

“I remember when I was younger, he let me sit on his shoulders and rub his fuzzy bald head. As we sat there, he calmly and honestly answered all of my curiosities revolving around the subject of his lack of hair.” (Memory from niece Megan O’Brien.)

“When we were little on a visit to Utah, I remember we were all together at Grandma’s house. Everyone had finished dinner and ran off to play, but my mom told me that I couldn’t go play until I finished the 4 mini pickles on my plate. This threw me into hysterics, and I was crying sitting on the floor in the kitchen. Uncle Pete came in and took a very large bite out of each pickle. I giggled, and he winked at me and walked away.” (Memory from niece Kater Taylor.)

“My favorite memory was when I was driving in the car with him and Aunt Moe, and he asked me if I wanted to know how to make a million dollars? I said yes and then he turned up the car radio music (‘American Idiot’ by Green Day) extremely loud and went on to mouth a bunch of words. Then he turned the music down and said, ‘And that’s how you make a million dollars.’” (Memory from nephew Danny O’Brien.)

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During his last several years, never getting the mental health treatment he needed/deserved after the 1991 shooting, Pete battled with his depression, his demons, some bad choices, and also with the fallout from his efforts at self-medication. During these dark days, his older sister Moe reached out to him over and over again, trying to throw a lifeline to what seemed to be a drowning man. She remembers these times with great pain and deep sadness. Yet, she also remembers great joy in the fleeting moments when she was able to briefly reconnect once again with the real Pete. Moe recalls, “I was close enough to know what was in his heart, and he knew what was in mine.”

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On January 31, 2021, just before he ended his own life, Pete told others around him to move away. Even in the depths of his darkness, depression, and despair, I think he did not want to risk hurting anyone else.

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At the end of his life, Pete did not have many material possessions, but he did own a motorcycle. Pete’s daughter Bonnie likes motorcycles too. Now Pete’s motorcycle is Bonnie’s motorcycle. Bonnie’s partner Kate Rusk is going to learn how to drive a motorcycle too. They plan to take long, peaceful rides together in Utah’s lovely backcountry.

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The song “Simple Gifts” was written by Elder Joseph Brackett in 1848 about a dance used in New England Shaker worship services. With a modest 16 bars of music and eight lines of words, the song exemplifies and extols the virtue of simplicity.

Really, however, the song is about life’s complexity, symbolized by the Shaker dance moves that accompany it.

We turn and turn, sometimes so often that we seem to churn.

We seek freedom, we search for where we ought to be, and we yearn for the place just right.

Fate and circumstance bend and bow us, relentlessly.

We keep dancing, always turning, trying to come ‘round right.

***

Especially during his final years, Pete’s churning created a whirlwind of emotional debris that often obscured the simple gifts he gave to so many others during his lifetime. Yet, the gifts still are there. Maybe time’s passage and God’s amazing grace will help us see them all again.

And perhaps those of us who loved him can give Pete one last simple gift too. We can wish or hope or pray that by turning, turning, Pete finally did come ‘round right.

***

A private family memorial service was held for Pete on June 5, 2021 and he was buried on a lovely hill at Mt. Calvary cemetery overlooking Salt Lake City, Utah.

*Mike O’Brien is a writer and attorney living in Salt Lake City, Utah. His book Monastery Mornings (found here), about growing up with the monks at the old Trappist monastery in Huntsville, Utah, will be published by Paraclete Press (more information here) in August 2021.