Around eight months after the initial release of The Village Chief and several months into the COVID-19 pandemic, my sister, Belynda Cleland, was murdered. 

Losing Belynda has been the hardest thing I have had to deal with in my life. It especially hurts because it was not her time to go. 

Belynda Cleland was the hero in my life story, as she had the single most impact in my life growing up. She inspired me to be better and I wanted to be just like her from the day I was born. Belynda also gave me the greatest gift that anybody could give to another: she made me feel like I mattered in this world.

I am so glad she got to see the words that I originally wrote in the book about her, but at this point I wish I had said more. I thought I had more time and more chances to let her know what she meant to me. It bothers me that I will never get the chance to tell her one last time. 

I want to share with you what I learned through dealing with Belynda’s murder:

• I learned that it is very important to let the people that you care about know how much you appreciate them and why.

• Keep moving forward. It wasn’t always easy, but I kept moving forward. I continued to live my life, coach my El Segundo Eagles softball team, and work after Belynda was murdered. Behind the scenes, I spent a lot of time being sad, angry, and a range of other emotions, but kept moving forward. The world keeps moving forward and, as hard as it was, I had to as well. In The Village Chief, I titled a section “Recognize That Some Days Just Ain’t Your Days”. The advice I gave was on-point for one of “those” games or even a tough season, but as I reread my words, I realized that this applies to difficult times in life. Take a breath, focus on the task at hand and what you can control. I teach kids on my teams to lean into the most difficult times of a game, even when it seems hopeless, and I had to do the same at the hardest moment in my life.

• I learned that in extremely challenging times there will be superheroes that jump out and show strength beyond what you—or maybe even they—thought was possible.

• Esther Cleland was a rock beside me through this unimaginable journey and I am so grateful that she was there for me and my family during this time.

• My sister, Joanna, and her husband, Ian, have been the unwavering superheroes through this experience. My entire family was devastated by this tragedy, but Joanna and Ian have been rockstars the entire way. They were picking up the everyday-world-keeps-spinning logistical pieces, while maintaining strength and love for their family, and processing their own grief. I know Belynda would be so proud of the love, determination, and strength both have shown since she was taken from us. I am so lucky and proud to be Joanna’s brother and Ian’s brother in-law. 

• I learned that life is truly precious and fragile. I try to live life with this in mind. A lot of the things we get crazy about in our daily lives do not really mean anything in the big picture of life. Belynda’s murder has brought me a much better perspective of what is and what is not tremendously important. Each morning I start my day by thinking about my purpose for the day, what I am grateful for and then I think about how I can live my life in a meaningful way and with intent. None of us know how much time we have, and I want to make sure that I leave this world after making an impact. I am fortunate that I can do this every single day being the best husband, father, friend, and coach etc. I can be. I just have to follow the principles of the book I wrote. Coaches have such a great opportunity to make an impact on the lives of kids. The last words I wrote in The Village Chief talked about making a permanent positive impact in somebody’s life and then I finished with: “How cool is that?”  You can control whether you look for and take on these opportunities. 

• I learned that time is something you are going to need to sort things out and help you heal. The thought of time helping you heal really sucks in the moment. I always want to “fix” or “adjust” immediately when I deal with issues on and off the field.  This was the biggest loss of my life and I needed to get some time between the actual event and the real healing. At one point I realized that the “game-face” I was putting on each day, and just pushing through the pain, was not going to resolve anything. I needed time to help me think more clearly so that I could deal with the emotions and pain. 

• Get professional help.  This one took me some time (over a year) to reach out and make it happen. I wish I did it sooner. I just kept moving forward, but I needed somebody to help me sort through all my emotions and help me grieve the loss of my big sister. In the end, I found the right person to help me work through it. Thank you, Erin Campbell.

• Finally, I learned that there is no “justice” in a case like this. Our former brother-in-law plead guilty and will be in a prison for several years. No matter how many years he got, it would still not bring my sister back. It felt unfair, sad, and empty. Life, at times, is not fair. I talk about this with my kids and the kids I coach. Whether it is a tough call by an official, a bad bounce of a ball, or it just seems like everything is going wrong, we have a choice to either give up or to keep going and focus on what we can control. I chose to focus on all the positive things in my life and to move forward but also to celebrate my sister’s life and to let people know the impact she had in my life.

I am still sad, but also so grateful that she was my big sister.

The best way I can describe my feelings about this terrible situation is through the song “Wrecked” written and performed by Imagine Dragons. When I heard it the first time, I was headed to coach a softball game and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Word for word, it felt like they had written the song for me. Then at the end, as they sang, “Sometimes I wish that I could wish it all away (but I can’t), One more rainy day without you (one more rainy day), Sometimes I wish that I could see you one more day (one more rainy day (but I can’t), One more rainy day”, I had to pull over and let the emotion of the situation pour out of me. I listen to the song every day and think about the 50 years I had with Belynda.

Belynda, I miss you and think of you every day. I will strive to make you proud for the rest of my life.