Say His Name

When she thinks of him, she remembers Kilgore Falls. Young and adventurous, he had jumped from a cliff into the water below, urging her to follow. “Trust me, you can do it.” He locked eyes with her, and shaking with fear, she jumped — and he swam to her, beaming with pride. The crowd behind them erupted in cheers. That moment, full of courage and love, defined the man she loved: someone who believed in others, inspired confidence, and lived with his heart wide open.

When their son was born, he held up his tiny boy to the living room window and said, “Someday when you get big enough, you and I are going to fish that creek together.” And they did. Almost every day, the little boy would hurry home from school, grab his tiny tackle box and pole, and spend time with Dad, just the two of them. They journaled every outing – chronicling the date, weather, location, number of fish caught, and type of catch... a record of every adventure for fifteen years.

A diesel mechanic who grew up in Baltimore, he was a hard worker with a strong work ethic, whose top priority was to provide for his wife and son. He taught his son to be self-sufficient and responsible, able to change a tire and the oil in the family car long before he could drive one. He taught him how to take care of himself, and how to have the strength to walk away from trouble. He made sure his son could use a fire starter and survive in the wilderness. His son’s plans to join the United States Coast Guard reflect his father’s strong influence.

His deep love for the outdoors made family hikes with his wife, son, and their dog Elsie everyone’s favorite venture. And when he was able to be at the Shack on the Eastern Shore, he was in his happy place. They caught fish and cooked them on a fire on the beach.

This outdoorsman had an artistic side as well. He loved to build things, and once built a bow & arrow out of bamboo. He was a guitarist and song writer, and he often shared poems with the family.

A big kid at heart, full of laughter and jokes, he loved playing on the floor with his niece and nephews. He always made sure everyone was happy, and he even randomly surprised Grams and Paps with visits to their home in Baltimore, because he knew that made them smile. He took the time to tell the people he loved that he was proud of them.

And then, on the evening of March 28 — when he was only 39 — his wife heard a sudden loud crash in the kitchen. Elsie looked at her from the doorway and then stared into the kitchen, seemingly trying to tell her that something was very wrong. She found him on the floor, violently convulsing.

He was diagnosed with glioblastoma, a devastating brain cancer, and his family’s whole world was shattered overnight. The series of surgeries and oncology interventions were beyond challenging. His wife, son, and father accompanied him to every treatment to support him. He endured them with strength and determination. The clinical reputations of Dr. Kheder Ashker, neurosurgeon, and Dr. Qamar Zaman, oncologist are well known; they are loved and revered by their patients. But even their highly skilled interventions could not stop this hyper-aggressive tumor.

Just four short months later, in mid-July, he was sleeping more, walking less, and declining quickly. But, true to his nature, he kept his spirit alive.

On July 18, Hospice came into their lives. His wife says, “Candy and another nurse came into our home and just took over, in the best way. They looked around and figured out what we needed. I couldn’t do this by myself. It felt like I was in a bad dream and living on adrenaline. But they could, and did. Their strength became mine. My husband was slipping away more each day, but he knew we were doing all we could to care for him. He knew he was loved.”

Hospice brought comfort, clarity, and courage into a home bracing for loss. They helped her navigate the terrifying unknowns, both the physical ones, like how to administer morphine, how to move him or help bathe him, and the emotional ones. “Candy’s hugs were the best,” she says. She knew she was heard, seen, and never alone. That consistent, quiet presence as they all managed symptoms helped prepare for the inevitable.

In his final days, hospice created space for peace. Music filled the home — Alan Jackson’s Precious Memories, especially Amazing Grace, soothed his spirit. Hospice ensured those moments weren’t just possible — they were protected.

And when he passed on July 24, 2024, with his son holding him in his arms, hospice came immediately. They stayed with the family and helped arrange the next steps, things the family hadn’t considered because they hadn’t ever lost a close loved one. As his wife said, “I simply couldn’t think outside of my grief. I just remember being curled up on the floor, totally devastated. They called the funeral home and helped with something so personal. Even that evening, Hospice called — checking back to see how I was doing. It was such a loving thing to do.”

Hospice support continued with calls, and then monthly letters tailored to the family’s grief journey — each one arriving with uncanny timing, offering validation and solace. It was always the right message at the right time, and she looked forward to finding them in the mailbox.

Last summer, she was invited to a special memorial service hosted by Hospice. She didn’t know what to expect, but what she found was another moment of closure. In her words, she says, “What I remember most about that service was when they read his name and paused and looked right into my eyes which just validated his life and my grief all at the same time. They simply spoke his name, and it was beautiful.”

“Our journey is worth sharing, she said. “Although we lost him, we were never alone. That is a gift.” Hospice is more than end-of-life care. It’s a promise: that no one walks through loss alone. That every name is spoken. That every story matters.

The name of Bradley Beverly lives on — in his son Camden’s Coast Guard dreams, in his wife Stephanie’s strength, in his loving and much-loved family, and in the compassionate arms of hospice.

Thank you, Stephanie and Camden Beverly, for allowing us to share this incredibly difficult journey, of a husband and father who lived life to the full and leaves behind a great legacy.