I enjoy writing, and I dabble; however, I believe I lack the ability to articulate or write my emotion-laden thoughts eloquently in this particular circumstance as I mourn the loss of my dear friend Bret Anderson. Bret is the greatest friend I could imagine having, and as I was quite close to him over the last few years, I want him to be remembered from my perspective. For that reason, I have a tremendous desire to unlock the thoughts that I’m having a hard time expressing. If I succeed even a little bit, it is my hope that anyone who reads these words will have a glimpse into why Bret’s passing hurts profoundly and how that loss leaves an enormous wake. A wake that the lens of grief distorts into an eternal horizon.

Bret and I grew up knowing each other, but we weren’t really friends until quite a bit later in life. As we observed for the trailer of our podcast (read with your best “trailer voice” impression):

“A long time ago, in a small town in suburban Utah, three friends grew up together…that is, two of the guys grew up hanging out with each other’s brothers and the other one moved in a decade later, but eventually the bonds of friendship would unite them into a trio of podcasters…”

Because we knew each other growing up, it was easy for Bret and I to reconnect in our early 20s at church meetings and activities. He was a steady friend and presence in my life ever since. That friendship continued to grow over time. We wrote together, watched and analyzed movies, attended numerous so-called “nerd nights”, dreamed of filmmaking careers, and talked of things of the soul. I hope to tell those stories at another time. As for this account, I want to focus on one thing in particular: Bret’s super power.

In attending Bret’s funeral and talking with those who know him best, no one seems to beat around the bush about Bret being shy and reserved. As well they shouldn’t. He knows it. I know it. All who know him well do, too. It isn’t something he hid, nor something I believe he was capable of hiding even if he wanted to. It is a part of who he is.

Unfortunately, introversion is frequently perceived as a weakness in our society and culture. We too-quickly throw heaps of praise toward those with extroverted tendencies and pass quiet judgement on those that don’t jump at the chance to be the center of attention.

I saw clearly Bret’s quiet strength and kindness. I seek to present his introversion as the source of those qualities (and others). I want to show his reserved nature as the key to the powerful relationships that he created and maintained. Those relationships continue to shine brightly, illuminating dark places and lifting people up to believe in their own potential. My dark places. My potential.

I’m afraid it is a little cliché at this point to compare a friend to Samwise Gamgee and it certainly isn’t an original thought that Samwise is the hero of the story of the Lord of the Rings. That being said, Bret is, in many ways, similar to Samwise Gamgee. Sam is an unassuming hobbit. A gardener. Happy to remain in the tranquil shire with his Longbottom leaf and ale, sitting peacefully with his circle of close friends and family at the Green Dragon. The parallels here are clear to those of us that know Bret.

I often picture Bret as I think of Sam pausing early in his adventure and telling Frodo that if he takes one more step, it will be the farthest from home he’s ever been. The world was large and looming, and fear ran through him intensely. But, with a deeply-instilled sense of duty, and a love of his friend Frodo, he took the next step. And the next. And the next. And he went on to carry Frodo up the slopes of Mount Doom so that the world, aka the Shire in Sam’s mind, would be saved.

The courage that it took Bret to leave home and serve a mission in Montana makes his sacrifice to serve that much more meaningful and touching. An extrovert could likely never know the quiet strength it took, and the steadfast thoughts and prayers he must have had to muster to keep himself on that mission, away from home, knocking on doors, striking up conversation after conversation with strangers, living with companions not of his choosing and remaining with them 24/7, for two full years. That is a brand of bravery, the likes of which extroversion cannot know.

Bret’s introverted strength and quiet dignity led him to be an effective peacekeeper. There were times I would be frustrated with someone or something. Together with my sense of justice, research, and attempted critical thinking (all crumble in hindsight under the weight of unfortunate pretentiousness, I’m afraid), I would expect Bret to completely and unequivocally side with me. From my perspective, how could so-and-so, or such-and-such possibly be in the right? These situations often came up in our group chat that consisted of myself, Erich Mueller, Nathan Dallon, and Jason Bentley.

Here is an example from that group chat showing my tendency toward being petty about something that doesn’t matter, and Erich’s stubborn alternative logic. Pay close attention to the way Bret gracefully steps in and makes peace out of this situation:

Erich: Or the DI [Deseret Industries] will have it

Matt: Why do people call DI “the DI”?

Erich: Because that’s what it is. The DI.

Matt: No, it is Deseret Industries. Not THE Deseret Industries. It is just DI.

Erich: Nope, it’s the DI You can’t just say I am going to DI doesn’t sound right or make sense so you have to put in the [sic]

Matt: I am going to DI.

Matt: The DI? Which DI? There are hundreds.

Bret: It may be a vestige of how some people used to talk in Utah.

Matt: “We was up to the DI the other day.”

Erich: The-“Denoting one or more people or things already mentioned or assumed to be common knowledge” so it’s common knowledge that you are going to the DI and everyone know what that place is [sic]

Matt: The “the” is unnecessary.

Matt: Also, I am aware that many people say “the DI”, my only point is that it is not correct and doesn’t make sense.

Bret: It makes sense as a nickname for the store. So, I am not going to get annoyed when people say it. Matt is correct, technically "the" in front of the abbreviation when referring to "DI" generally is incorrect. Language is an interesting thing…it may not be technically correct but it is correct to the dialect and vernacular of the local culture's verbal communication.

Erich and I then went on to express our appreciation of Bret and he responded in a typical self-deprecating manner.

Bret: I try…Haven’t mastered the “do” part from Yoda, Nike, and President Benson.

Bret actually had mastered the “do” part better than the rest of us. He genuinely did not see this about himself, but I know it is true. Unbeknownst to him, Bret is the best of us.

The above conversation (one of many ridiculous discussions in our group chat) is a perfect example of me being convinced I am right, and technically I was in this case…but then peacemaker Bret allowed both sides to feel validated, and he made a very good case for what Erich was expressing.

Bret is a master peacemaker. He was capable of taking sides if needed. He was strong and firm when he had to be; however, Bret’s magic came from making observations that would briefly make me furious that he just wasn’t seeing how unjust such-and-such situation was and how right I was. That fury would quickly part as Bret would gently, in a way that just came naturally, help me understand. And then the heightened blood pressure and the bulging vein in my forehead would both deflate. All I could feel in those moments was awe at my friend’s ability to love and see, not just me, but everyone.

Bret, like Samwise, always carried us (in our case metaphorically) to higher ground. I feel him inspiring me to higher thoughts and actions now that I am separated from him in this life. And in that way, he is also Obi-Wan, becoming “more powerful than [I] could possibly imagine”. His influence and memory live.

I express my gratitude that Bret is an introvert through and through. I would argue that extroversion could have robbed him of his relationships and peacemaker powers. Introversion trained him to understand the people around him and then he effortlessly translated those human observations into powerful moments where he would see you. More important than being seen, you would feel seen, and because of that, you were alive. I honor his introversion. I honor the superhero that he was. Introversion Man. He was the hero I needed. And I love him dearly for the lasting impact his powers will have on me.