Charles "Trey" W. Millender III

Trey was a graduate of USC and owner of Carolina Utilities. He loved to sing karaoke, spend time on the water, and just be with his family.

He is survived by his beloved wife, Samantha Millender, and son, Matthew Millender. Also, his mother, Franchelle Millender of Columbia; brother, Camden Millender (Michelle) of Columbia; and fur babies, Kaya, Hank and Olivia.

A memorial service will be held at 4:00 pm on Saturday, June 19, 2021 at Caughman-Harman Funeral Home, Lexington Chapel. The family will receive friends following the service. In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to the National Alliance on Mental Illness at www.nami.org.

Eulogy by Cam Millender from the Memorial Service:

Trey was a great man. He lived a life of love, duty, and diligence. And we expected Trey to keep living like this, being everything that he was. He was a brother I could always turn to, he was a dutiful son, a doting husband, a loving father. An amazing father. He would do anything for Matthew and was always trying to think of what more he could do. He loved him so much and was trying to raise him right, whether reading stories and books with him or teaching him about the world. My family and I always loved watching and just being with them together. As often as not, they acted more like two brothers than father and son--Trey being just as goofy and playful as his little boy.

Just like with his son, Trey would do anything for Sam. He was a loving and devoted husband who wanted nothing more than for Sam to be happy. And while Trey always acted happy and optimistic, it was clear that his happiness was stronger and truer with her in his life.

Likewise, he was a son who could always be relied on to help out and take care of his parents. When our Dad was getting too sick to live alone, Trey didn’t hesitate to ask him to move into his house and make sure he was taken care of. And whenever Mom needed anything done, Trey was there. Not just fixing things around the house, but being with her. He was not just a better son than I was, but a loving and dedicated son by any measure.

To his employees and coworkers he was fair and hard working and, as with everything else, he never failed to take care of his people and his work. Indeed, he would always go the extra mile to help anyone.

In reality, Trey was not only everything each of us expected of him, he was more.

But Trey didn’t expect his life to be so hard. He thought that if he loved his family then that would be enough. If he worked hard and used his great intelligence he would be successful. If he did right by others they would do right by him. That’s pretty much it. Get married and have a son. Buy a house, buy a boat.

But in reality, Trey could not be with his son as much as he wanted; his boat was missing for months; trying to get the house he wanted was a disaster; making money was so very hard; and being there for everyone takes a toll. In reality, life is what happens while you’re making other plans.

Right now you expect me to be sad. To be grieving. And I am. Of course I am. My brother died this week. But the reality is that I am also mad. I’m angry. I’m confused. When someone dies we all respond differently but most of us will rage against the world, or against cancer, or against drunk drivers. What are we supposed to do when we lose a loved one to themselves?

There is a stigma here, with his death. He took his own life. It’s not something we want to talk about. It’s private. It’s shameful. Why is that? Why do we expect people to bear up, to be strong, to live forever, and never cause us pain? The reality is, as always, more complex. Mental illness, anxiety, pain, and depression often overcome people. These things are a disease and an enemy as surely as any others that can take a life.

Yet despite expectations, I want to talk about it, about how he died, because I want to honor his memory. I know talking about his death is an unlikely way to honor his life, but the reality is different.

The reality is that Trey wasn’t just a strong, loving, dutiful man. He was also a flawed man. He was strong but he was weak. He was dutiful but tired. Loving, but vulnerable. I called mental illness, anxiety, pain, and depression a disease and an enemy. But the reality is--as always--more complicated. Mental illness is not something we can nor should vilify. Anxiety isn’t an enemy to overcome. Pain isn’t something we can ignore. And depression isn’t something we can conquer.

The reality is that these things are part of who we are. To a greater or lesser extent, part of who we all are. They are not a cause of shame. They are not a sign of weakness. They are not something to keep in the dark but something to bring into the light. The expectation is that we all should be happy, healthy, well-adjusted individuals. The reality is that we often--usually--aren’t.

The expectation right now is sadness, despair, grief. The reality also has anger, fear, blame, doubt. And this is okay. People are complicated. We are expected to be proper grievers, then we are expected to be strong and, well, normal. Healthy.

But when expectations and reality aren’t aligned life just gets a lot harder. The truth gets lost.

Trey has once more given us a part of himself. Even now he is working for us. He is showing us the truth. He reveals how difficult and complicated life can be. How expectation and reality are never the same. And he is showing us what we can do about it. We can strive to help each other. We can love each other and we can work for each other. As Trey did for us.

If there was a failing in Trey maybe it was trying to do this all on his own. He hid much of himself in the darkness so that we wouldn’t have to work for him. He didn’t want to be a burden on us. Rather, he just wanted to support us and do right by each of us.

So this is how I am honoring Trey today. By asking myself, and asking each of you, to try and be the person we expected Trey to be: strong, loving, dutiful, always there. At the same time I am asking myself and asking each of you to be the person we didn’t expect Trey to be: weak, vulnerable, tired.

No one is an island. No one is without pain, depression, anxiety. No one has a life where reality meets expectations. So let us be like Trey was and show each other love and diligence but also be like we wish he was and show each other vulnerability and weakness.