On the five hour drive from Edmonton, to my father's home in Taber, a thought came to me; Bruce was mildly autistic. I know three autistic children and Bruce was not autistic. I dismissed the notion totally and resumed my in depth analysis of my brother's selfish, self-centered and self-serving ways. A couple hours further into our drive, my wife Kim, turned to me and said, 'Bruce could have had some sort of autism.' I was startled. Nothing I knew about autism applied, so I filed the coincidence under 'O' for odd. In arrant ignorance, I continued to cling to my sure knowledge that all Bruce needed was to get a grip, take responsibility for his life and stop blaming everyone else for his problems.
My father asked me to say a few words, offer a prayer and dedicate the grave. He didn’t want a big funeral and hoped no one would even come to our small graveside service. Until the day closed in on me, I thought that would be just fine. Never at a loss for words, my tongue was paralyzed. I was suffering from a wind swept mind. After an agonizing struggle, I decided to turn it over to the Lord and let Him direct me when the time came. (Picture that - all self righteous, judging my brother and still expecting guidance from God.) When the time came, I was more nervous than expected. That never happens. Walking through the cemetery, before reaching the gravesite, I stopped my cousin Bob and my uncle George, and asked them for a priesthood blessing. I needed a strength of mind and wisdom that just wasn’t coming to me. Though I don’t recall the words, I can say it was a grand blessing and the nervousness fled. A little humility began to creep in. I walked to the grave side and proceeded without hesitation, still not knowing what to say.
Earlier, my much more forgiving and gentle sister Brenda, told me she had something she wanted to say, so I began by turning the time over to her, expecting that would give me more time to think. When Brenda started talking, I stopped thinking. When she finished, I knew exactly why nothing had come to me. It had all been given to her. She shared some very tender, poignant, loving and comforting feelings. Had those same words come from my mouth, they would have fallen straight into the open pit in front of me and would never have been as powerful, beautiful and remarkable.
After my sister's comments, I played a short medley on my harmonica then dedicated the grave. Finally, the insight and inspiration I had been seeking manifest itself in the prayer. I told the Lord we had forgiven Bruce for what he did and prayed that he would forgive us for anything we might have been able to do for him, but never. Among other things, I prayed that he would get the 'help' he needed in the spirit world that he couldn't get here.
Later that day, when things settled down somewhat, I looked up autism still holding firm to my first impressions. Clearly, Bruce had no symptoms of autism. Then, I read about an associated condition called Asperger Syndrome. I changed the focus of my search, clicking on one website after another - dumbfounded by every article. I began reading an exact profile of my brother Bruce, the poster boy for Asperger's Syndrome. Suddenly, I recognized why autism came to mind. I had never heard of Asperger's, but I did know about autism. Back in 1944, Dr. Hans Asperger identified a condition characterized by a group of associated symptoms that consistently occur together. Named after the doctor, Asperger's became a subset of the autism spectrum. They could have named the condition Bruce’s Syndrome. I was in shock. With each symptom I read, I had to retract all my life long tightly held beliefs about what I thought of my brother. All his traits and idiosyncrasies began to make sense. I saw and understood things about him I had mislabeled as arrogant, selfish, self centered, and thoughtless. Now I felt like the arrogant and thoughtless one. I had placed myself in the celestial kingdom, banishing Bruce to the telestial kingdom. My own salvation was now in question. I had no idea his mind functioned so vastly different from mine; as though we spoke two different languages.
When God says 'judge not', He means it. I thought 'judge not' meant we shouldn't judge unless we have all the facts. Knowing Bruce for forty-four years, I was certain I had the necessary facts to make a clear assessment. Except for the most important fact of all. I knew less about Bruce than I know about the surface of the sun. Only God knows what's in a man's heart and mind.
I don’t condone what my brother did. I believe he's still accountable. But to what degree, I have no idea. I have eight children. As they age, they become more and more accountable. I never treated my eight-year-old, like I treated my eighteen-year-old. I expect more from my twenty-seven-year-old, than I do my thirteen-year-old. In the Lord's eyes, I have no idea how old Bruce was. I also know God saw the true intentions of his heart. I only assumed I knew. Whether or not Bruce actually suffered from depression or was saddled with Asperger's, God has clearly shown me I don't have a clue how He works and how He judges.
Here's the oft quoted M. Russell Ballard quoting Bruce R. McConkie (one apostle quoting another) ...The late Elder Bruce R. McConkie, formerly of the Quorum of the Twelve, expressed what many church leaders have taught: “Suicide consists in the voluntary and intentional taking of one’s own life, particularly where the person involved is accountable and has a sound mind …. persons subject to great stresses may lose control of themselves and become mentally clouded to the point that they are no longer accountable for their acts. Such are not to be condemned for taking their own lives. It should also be remembered that judgment is the Lord’s; he knows the thoughts, intents, and abilities of men; and he in his infinite wisdom will make all things right in due course.” (Mormon Doctrine, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1966, p. 771)
Again, what Bruce did was wrong, but only to the extent he was capable of understanding fully what he was doing. I also believe he'll have to pay a price equal to his understanding and capacity. But, based on what I learned about Asperger's, I’m sure it won’t be as severe as I once thought.
Finally, after checking with the temple and the church handbook, we learned to our great relief, we could have a funeral and Bruce could be buried in his temple clothes. I was grateful for that blessing. I was grateful to have been able to dress my little brother for the day he can rise above all this in the resurrection, as promised in his patriarchal blessing, if he repents. After reading his patriarchal blessing, I believe Bruce will be a remarkable being when we meet again, once he's had a chance to repent and take advantage of the Atonement.
