We said goodbye to a friend today via a Livestream of his funeral. (That is one positive thing that this pandemic has given us - the ability to "be there" when we can't be there.) He died unexpectedly, in his sleep, leaving a daughter, a son, and three grandchildren to figure out how to live without him.
We had known Jason for over 30 years; he worked with Rick for a while and then after he changed jobs, he would stay with us when he was in town - both in Baltimore and here in Atlanta. Our visits were filled with good food, good wine, and gut-busting laughter. There is not one memory I have of our time together that doesn't make me smile. Things like him telling me "a lesser driver would have missed that one" when I ran over a pothole on the highway. Things like watching South Park and laughing so loudly that Rick had to remind us, more than once, that our very young kids were asleep. I will never again hear the phrase "Katie, bar the door!" without thinking of him with a chuckle. There were so many great conversations about every possible subject and it seemed like we would never run out of things to say.
But time happens, doesn't it? His territory changed with a new job, and there was no reason for him to travel to the Southeast anymore. Rick would sometimes run into him at trade shows and they would always call me so I could say hello. Jason was never a social media guy - no Facebook or Instagram - so communication trickled down to emails on birthdays, or congratulations on career news shared on LinkedIn. He did email me to tell me he was going to be a grandfather - something he was very excited about.
Jason was a man who loved deeply, without holding anything back. He loved his children so fiercely that he fought the Texas Family Court system - a bureaucracy that seemed to believe that children are always better off with their mother, regardless of circumstances - to win custody of his son and then his daughter as well. I imagine that when death came, had he had the option, he would have fought against it in order to stay with his children, for whom he had fought so fiercely when they were young. And his grandchildren. But for whatever reason, it was Jason's time to go. I hope that it was peaceful and that if there is a heaven, he is there.
Reading the guest book entries on the funeral home website and hearing the stories from the people who spoke at his funeral, I am happy to know that Jason seems to have been loved by everyone who knew him. He was warm, funny, quick with a hug, easy to talk to, and ever so kind. He will be missed by so many people whose lives were made better by their time with him.
If you get nothing else from this post, please take the time to reach out to the people who matter. Trust me, you will regret not having jumped at the chance for one more conversation while you could. I certainly do.
RIP, Jason. I will miss you, my friend.
And I've been too, too hard to find.
But it doesn't mean you ain't been on my mind."
"Sister Golden Hair" - Gerry Beckley, songwriter
