Amid a hushed, candlelit crowd that could only be described as reverent, The Weepies began their second show of the night on Saturday in Evanston. My heart jumped to my throat and I sat, enchanted.
I’ve been away a year and a day
You recognize love after the fact
You did what you did and that was that
As I sat listening to my favorite band, Jason sat in a hospital in Colorado and began to lose a battle he had been fighting for months. Sunday morning, maybe even as I was buying him another get-well card from my favorite boutique store in Chicago, we lost him.
Don’t say words that you don’t mean
When I’m gone, please speak well of me
The world lost one of the most kind, positive, gentle humans. One of few men I’ve been close with. One of the most caring friends I’ve ever had.
Looking back now, I only wish I had been kinder
Did I ever know love? Did I ever know love?
And could I have been blinder?
How close to home does death have to hit before you realize you don’t tell the people that are still here how important they are — because you didn’t tell the one who isn’t here anymore how important he was?
How much regret do you have to be filled with about things you didn’t say before you change the way you speak to people on a daily basis — before you begin to say the things you should and learn to keep your mouth shut to avoid the things you shouldn’t?
Don’t say words that you don’t mean
When I’m gone, please speak well of me
Don’t hold back all your love for someday, for someday.
Flights were priced but ultimately left unbooked, omelets offered but left uncooked in lieu of a night in my own bed. Twitter wasn’t checked consistently enough. A second card wasn’t sent in time. There’s always something. Aside from sadness, guilt is the easiest emotion to feel right now: What could I have done better? What could I have said? Why didn’t I try harder? Why wasn’t I around this weekend?
I would say that I’m sorry if it would do any good
But to never regret means you have to forget
and I don’t think that I could.
But I mailed him a card in August that sent him into tears and went on his fridge. We talked before his biopsy, however brief. And Uno was aplenty at High Life Lounge last night in his honor. And cliché or not, here’s the truth: that’s what Jason would care about. He was just that kind of person.
Don’t say words that you don’t mean
When I’m gone, please speak well of me.
Oh Holly…I’m sorry for your loss. Great tribute.
I “met” Jason briefly via twitter and the interaction was oddly unique in that his gratitude was over the top for what was a simple gesture on my end. Sad to lose one of the good ones.
Take care
Katie
Great post, Holly. I’m an ocean away but I’m thinking of you and if you need anything let me know! Love you so much.
You have an amazing gift of words, my love. I too am very saddened by the loss of such a great man. I’m here for you if you need anything.
What a beautiful tribute to someone I wish I’d known.
Thank you. I have not other words.
It’s a testament to your love and resolve that you were able to write what must be written during a time as difficult as this. I could only hope to be as strong as you. You have my sincere condolences, Holly, and please know that you’re not alone.
beautiful.
Thank you for writing this. For sharing. You captured Jason so beautifully; you also captured what we’re all feeling…
from a fellow Des Moines chic and mother of a classmate of Jason’s…this is so poignant and touching. Thank you for expressing what others can’t.
So beautifully emotive, Holly; he surely knows.
Love & hugs
Reading others’ accounts of Jason touching their lives has helped me cope with his loss. I spoke with him a few weeks ago on chat, and he seemed pretty nervous about the biopsy. I tried to play the super-posi friend and say it was going to be ok, and sent him a few of my favorite soup recipes, playing it off like they were the magic elixir to get him well again. he sent me a message saying that he loved them, said he cried a little, and put them on his fridge – if only they had worked like i hoped.
it’s sad knowing he’s gone and i won’t see his chats anymore, his messages at the time you need them most, always putting you in a better mood. i think it will hit me the hardest when i’m mailing this year’s round of christmas cards, and won’t be able to send him another one to post on his fridge =/
yeah, so, so true. I just can’t believe he’s gone. He was a friend in college and we just lost touch. I just can’t believe he’s gone.
this is so true:
How close to home does death have to hit before you realize you don’t tell the people that are still here how important they are — because you didn’t tell the one who isn’t here anymore how important he was?
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