When Allen Levi’s brother Gary was diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer, neither realized they were about to embark on the best year of their lives. More than mere brothers, Allen and Gary were best friends, life-long bachelors, one a lawyer turned singer-songwriter, the other a globe-trotting missions worker. Their relationship was one of rare and powerful beauty, and in this rich memoir, Levi captures the small yet telling details of a life lived to the fullest—right up to the finish line.
I'm sitting here with tears running down my face as I've just closed the book. I don't know how to put into words how this book has left its mark on me. It is filled with such hope in the midst of great grief. Quoting from the end of the book, you are Left "empty but full" in your grief. One of the biggest lessons for me personally in this beautiful story of friendship, loss, and a life well lived is: Our sadness has purpose, listen to it and led it lead you to the one who loves you more than you could ever imagine. I highly recommend it. Thank you Allen Levi for loving your brother so well and for knowing that this story needed to be told.
Often humorous, often heartbreaking, yet full of hope throughout, this beautifully written memoir is one of the most poignant and moving stories you'll ever read. Allen Levi is a rare breed: An intellectual who doesn't act like one. Rather, he's a humble and down-to-earth soul who is deeply committed to his family, friends and community, and who has quietly touched more lives for good than most of us will ever even think about. In short, as we say in the South, Allen is "good people." Likewise was his brother, Gary, the primary subject of this book. The world needs more men like the Levi brothers.
Love Allen Levi. Read Theo of Golden a few months ago and loved it so I read this one too. This is a beautiful book. Suffering and tragedy transformed a way to commemorate and celebrate a life well lived and a God well pleased. Reading about Gary’s life has inspired me to love God better and seek after him more. Everyone should read this book.
I met the author’s parents last year when I was home for Labor Day. I heard they were about to celebrate their 65th anniversary and I congratulated them and asked what their best and worst years were. Mrs. Levi said, “I’ll have to think about the best year, but the worst year was definitely the one in which we lost Gary. It was so difficult.” After a few moments silence she continued, “Actually, that was our best year, too. The way our family came together to love him and how close we all became, it was both the best and the worst.” It reminded me of the film “Beautiful Collateral” which I had seen a few months before. In this world, there will be ashes, it’s about finding the beauty in those ashes that make it worth living.
This book is the obituary of a man who lived more intentionally than anybody I’ve ever met. It’s told by a brother who loved him well. There are some sad parts, there are many funny parts, but overall, you will come away being blessed by a deeper knowledge of Gary, Allen, and Jesus. The way these two brothers love each other and others will make you wish you loved everyone in your life as deeply and intentionally as they do. It was a joy and a pleasure to see Christ’s love and servant attitude demonstrated throughout the pages of this book.
Yes, this is a book about Gary Levi’s life, but ultimately it’s a book that points to the One who gives us life. What a beautiful picture of how joy and sorrow can exist together, and that’s only made possible because of Jesus.
“Increasingly, I am convinced that the Kingdom of God moves forward most enduringly when ordinary people do small things kindly and well over a long period of time.”
“But I hope- and I know Gary would concur- that you’ll have the wisdom to listen to your sadness. Accept it for what it says and follow it to the One who can explain it, heal it, and redeem it.”
“He reminded me often to set my heart on things above.”
I don’t think I can accurately describe the impact this book has left on me. I think I ended up highlighting the entire thing, but I’ll share a few of my favorites below. This book captured everything I love and believe in. Not only do I get to love the gift of hospitality, but we’re actually called to be hospitable. It reminded me of the incredible gift and joy of siblings — a bond truly like no other. Most of all, this book points to the goodness and sovereignty of Christ. I want to love others & love the Lord like Gary did - like Allen does.
“A dinner table is a good place to put the gifts of God on display: the living word (conversation), the bread of life (a well-prepared meal), the rose of Sharon”
“so a sunrise was simply beautiful. A beehive was simply fascinating. An old friend was simply wonderful. God good. Christ enough.”
“what is friendship, rightly lived, but the unheroic call to a thousand small conversations, countless prayers, and a myriad of encouraging words from one person to another over a lifetime? What is it but the bearing of burdens, the sharing of gifts, the asking of uncomfortable questions, and the possible discomfort of necessary confrontation?”
“You cannot love Christ too much. You cannot serve Him too fervently. You cannot enjoy Him too deeply. You cannot know Him too well.”
“I did not save the world today, Or change the course of history, I walked the small and quite way, The life that God has given me.” - song Allen Levi wrote about his brother Gary.
I loved this book. Honest look on death and dying but full of hope of what is to come. The gospel is soaked in the words and actions of Levi family during Gary’s last year of life together.
Such a tender testimony of the bond between two brothers, namely how one cared for the other during his final days. The perspective the author's brother had on life was humbling and encouraging, a living witness of meekness in God's kingdom.
". . . . a life well-lived meant doing small things well over a long period of time. He was heroically unheroic, at peace with his obscure place in a very big picture. This does not mean he didn’t want to be impactful. He did, and precisely because he took his small role seriously, he was. . . . . the unheroic life of secret generosity and radiant goodness."
This is a book about a man named Gary. It is, of course, also a book about death. Allen Levi walks us into that shadowy valley with an oxymoronic combination of seriousness that knows the weight of death well and hope that seems to be unimpressed with its limitations. This book is orients us towards the Kingdom, both on earth and in heaven. “The best is yet to come”. Maranatha.
One of the most hope filled books I've ever read. I fear I've highlighted the whole book. Phenomenal, moving, beautiful. This one left a mark. I promise you'll be enriched by reading it.
" I tell people, to their obvious surprise, that the year you and I shared with cancer was the best year of my life. Difficult and hurtful, yes. But by any measure that really matters—depth of purpose, intensity of focus, freedom from triviality, honesty of affection, genuineness of love and joy and peace, reliance on and trust in God—it was “The Year” for me. To be with my favorite person every day, to relive so much shared history, and to be free from the petty cares that so often clutter my life added up to something for which I can find no words. I wish, of course, that I’d never experienced it, especially knowing how difficult it was for you, but I’m grateful."
"And so a sunrise was simply beautiful. A beehive was simply fascinating. An old friend was simply wonderful. God good. Christ enough. And all that he saw, everything he read, every mystery that presented itself to him, and every human achievement or failure that he observed pushed Gary Christ-ward somehow."
5/5 Stars. Real, encouraging, edifying, and a lovely tribute from one brother to another. The way Gary glorified God in the “small things” of life is inspiring. Looking for a good and godly role model? Read this book and learn of Gary, but more importantly learn of Gary’s God, the Lord Jesus Christ.
Beautifully written book. I loved everything about it. It challenges me and encourages me to live a life where loving Christ is my highest priority, coming in close second is loving others with His love. Gary’s life was inspiring simply because he sought to imitate Jesus. Laughter & tears both occurred. I’d recommend to anyone!
Deeply touching, Christ-centered memoir of Allen Levi's brother, Gary, and the last year of Gary's life. I know my rating reflects a bias: I have long been a fan of Allen's music and know bits and pieces about his family via the blog he writes (much less frequently these past few years). It is a heartbreaking yet beautiful story of life, death, family, and brotherly love, all within the framework of an unapologetic Christian worldview. You'll be enriched by reading it. It's available through Allen's website, allenlevi.com.
This book was beautiful, loving tribute to a brother and the life he lived for Christ. It read like a eulogy that spanned chapters instead of paragraphs and with time after the loss to process and share. It was heartbreaking yet so hopeful.
“Increasingly, I am convinced that the Kingdom of God moves forward most enduring when ordinary people do small things kindly and well over a long period of time.”
After reading Theo of Golden, I decided to try another of Alan Levi’s books. This time it was his story of the year he spent with his brother before his brother lost his battle to a brain tumor… Heartfelt, Christ honoring, tearjerker story of walking with and serving someone through their last days on earth readying with family for a brothers journey to spend eternity with Christ. Whew.
Phenomenal. Unapologetically wept the entirety of my flight. Excellent verbiage put to grief/ joy/ pain/ suffering/ delight/ hope/ and a life well lived. I will be thinking of this for a long time and don’t adequately have the words right now for how this impacted me and pointed me towards Heaven. “The best is yet to come….” 🤍
I dare you to read it. Boy oh boy that was a somber sweet read. It was like going to a really good funeral. The ones that inspires you to be a better man or woman. You leave humbled and caught up in the Glory of God. (Highly Recommend, I dare you!)
A beautifully written story of the life lived by a true man of God and the brother that loved him beyond words. I only wish I had lived to know Gary and his devoted brother Allen. Pine Mountain GA is my home. I would love to visit the Levi farm someday.
A heartbreaking but hopeful letter to family that Allen Levi wrote in honor of his brother Gary. This covers the final year of Gary's life as he passed away from brain cancer. Gary's life was a life well-lived and this book brought laughter, sadness, and expectancy.
Difficult, but beautiful. This book made me intensely grateful for family and for a common faith in the Lord that enables us to live, and by God's grace, someday also doe, well.
Fantastic book. Great encouragement and reminder that to live a life of faith is to live a life of servitude. I must decrease so that he will increase.
“I don’t wish for any of us to remember (Gary) as anything other than what he was-a man deeply flawed and conscious of it, but deeply forgiven and conscious of that too.”, p. 5
I remember being 18 years old, idealistic, ready to embark on a new life after high school by leaving home and striking out on my own. I had naïve, grandiose ideas on how my life would end up if I followed an arbitrary schedule with a set of arbitrary rules that I created for myself: finish school, get married at 24, have a child by 26, all while going to law school or maybe even embark on becoming some renowned journalist the way my maternal great-grandfather was. I also had other plans on striking it rich if I chose the Pop Star route (I’m embarrassed to even mention it here, but alas, there is an unseen American Idol audition footage somewhere out there in the ether) where I planned on utilizing an imaginary large platform to help imaginary people and champion imaginary causes, and to give back to the community I grew up in with all the pomp and circumstance that affords. With the advent of social media, everyone I grew up with would get the opportunity to see how far I made it. An island-girl from a small town, on a small island who went from the middle of the Pacific to the Big Leagues. If I follow my rules, that’s how I thought my life would go: big and visible. Oh, how I failed. Miserably. Life doesn’t ask you what you want or how you want it.
Although I finished school, got married at 24, and had a child thereafter, I did not plan for a divorce, single motherhood, doing work for minimum wage just to make ends meet while caring for a child, and starting life all over again in my mid-30’s. Choosing to have my daughter and to live for her is one of the best decisions I have ever made, but outside of that, I felt like I lost so much time because of the small, little, horrible decisions I made along the way. What I failed to understand then is what Gary Levi—the younger brother of author Allen Levi of his book The Last Sweet Mile—–exuded in his life: that “a life well-lived means doing small things well over a long period of time” and that the “unheroic life of secret generosity and radiant goodness” is how to get there. Allen Levi wrote this book to chronicle the 1 year he spent taking care of his younger brother, Gary, after Gary had been diagnosed with an inoperable malignant brain tumor. Despite the emotional and physical hardship on their entire family during this year, Allen says that every day of this final year of Gary’s life was one of the best years they had personally endured: each day was a reminder that he is small; that humans are “frail, transient beings” amid the “immensity of space, the incomprehensible miracle of the molecular world, the vagaries of economies, the depth of cruelties committed and powers abused all drive home the realty that any single life, against the back drop of creation and history, is a microscopic ephemera.” It’s wonderful, too, but definitely microscopic. And when one realizes one’s smallness and that there exists a far greater other-ness outside of oneself, one can’t help but look outward.
In a culture that values the visible and newsworthy, self-glorification and large audiences, words like “reckless, radical, passionate, extreme, and crazy seem to be the new template for what constitutes a genuinely worthwhile life to live.” Rather, Gary taught me (and the author) how to be counter-cultural by being “passionate (without being ostentatious), radical (but not always in visible ways and rarely set out to be).” It’s easy to explode with hot fire in the moment, but it’s much harder to have a slow burn that lasts over time. Perseverance is hardly anyone’s strong suit. It requires endurance not many naturally have. Allen says that the cancer season was a clear lesson in “being small” against things he couldn’t control, and a lesson in doing unseen and silent faithful acts by showing up every day to care for his brother despite his sadness, his anger, his weariness, and his knowledge of the likelihood that, although he believed in miracles, his baby brother was going to die soon. Whether Gary intended to or not, he was inviting big brother Allen to the quiet and humble unheroic life.
“What, after all, are marriage and parenting but the unheroic call to lives of daily self-denial and attentiveness to the needs of others? What are they but a million small decisions made over a lifetime? The love of spouse for spouse, or that of parent for child, can be, at times and often for long seasons, draining and unrewarded and, heaven forbid, unfulfilling. It is hard, unheroic work, but it is also irreplaceable. What kind of world will it be if the humbling work of making family is altogether lost to our insistent call for individual happiness and self-fulfillment? And what is friendship, rightly lived, but the unheroic call to a thousand small conversations, countless prayers, and a myriad of encouraging words from one person to another over a lifetime? What is it but the bearing of burdens, the sharing of gifts, the asking of uncomfortable questions, and the possible discomfort of necessary confrontation? My brother’s role at present is to be sick. My role at present is to be present. His is to be weak and forgetful. Mine is to be available and remembering. His is to be needy. Mine is to serve.”
Gary reminded me so much of my Dad who passed away in late January. My Dad, too, was on a downward hill of health issues for a year before the complications of his diabetes exacerbated the pneumonia he finally succumbed to. And my Dad, too, lived a quiet, humble, unheroic life in which he made the small, consistent decisions each day to love people by praying for them, inviting them over for coffee, and feeding their physical bodies as well as their spiritual ones.
When I read this book about Gary, I read about a man who had zero intention of me (or you) ever knowing how he lived or how he loved. But he lived greatly and loved much anyway.
The author wrote a song that captures the life of Gary, and as I read the lyrics, it wonderfully captures the life my Dad lived, too. It goes: I did not save the world today, Or change the course of history, I walked the small and quiet way, The life that God has given me. I woke up with the morning sun, I sat awhile to think and pray, I did my work till the day was done, But I did not save the world today. I tried to live with gratitude, To do the good that I could do, To love the people close to me, My neighbor and my family, To share the kindness I’ve been shown, To trust the Love that is my home, To celebrate the tiny part I play, But I did not save the world today. I hear the politicians speak, Such big ideas and lofty claims, My life, to theirs, seems small and weak, But in Gods big hand we weight the same. The saints and poets seem to know, The law behind the ocean tide, The world gets changed and moved along, By little gestures multiplied. So I try to live with gratitude, To do the good that I can do, To love the people close to me, My neighbors and my family, To share the kindness I’ve been shown, To trust the Love that is my home, To celebrate the tiny part I play, But I did not save the world today.
In lieu of saving the world today, may you love your friends and your family well, may you do your desk job the best way you know how, may you offer a smile to a breaking heart, and may you cook your meals with a sprinkle of love and a dash of joy.
What a beautiful, loving tribute to a life well lived. This story contains the love of a brother, the loss of a beloved brother, and all the waves of joy and sorrow that come with the ultimate separation of death. I just lost my sister to Alzheimer's last month, so much of this story was poignant and current for me. Losing that "secret language" is a visceral loss and oh my, the loss of shared laughter. Whether you're Christian or not, you can feel the devotion of Gary and his unending pursuit of bringing the divine into every day life. You can feel the kindness and love of his actions. You can find hope in his faith. You can dream of Heaven. A beautiful memoir. And now we know who is at the heart of Theo of Golden.
My rating is actually a 4.50. I’d recently read THEO OF GOLDEN by the author and had adored it. Then I learned of this memoir he’d written about 10 years earlier. As I read this moving, beautiful tale of a final year spent in rural Georgia as two brothers say goodbye- love was evident on each page. Beautifully and lyrically written - it is a testament to Christian faith and love-both human and divine. It will make you smile -think and -yes-definitely weep. Highly recommend it.