.: the weight of a loss :.

Never have I lost a friend so close to my heart as the day that I lost my friend, Jason Kessler. A year has now passed and not a week has gone by where I have not been haunted by either fragments of our past or the bitter recollection of his present absence. I must confess that the first time that I met him, he carried himself like a rebel. Funny enough, he never quite escaped that mental image in my mind, much to his own intentionality. He had a way about him that seemed to never allow himself to fade into the background. If there was a cause that he saw as worthy, he was the first to lead the charge. He was addicted to chivalry in a way that was contagious. He made me want to discover what it meant to truly live, to be a man above all other men, and to love boldly. We would spend hours together trying to find deeper ways of breaking through the facade of growing older. He made me want to stop pretending, if in any way I was doing so. He taught me what it meant to defend the weak in any and every way. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I used to get so frustrated with him for constantly pushing me to be someone better than I already was. But as the years have past, I have begun to understand why he urged such feelings in me. He never seemed to be the sort of man that was satisfied with who he was, never fully satisfied with what he had already done. There was always something better to invest in, and someone within to discover amidst the day-to-day living. Even when he felt like he had nothing more to give, he refused to let up on himself. He knew what it required to be someone great, and he refused to waste his life on anything less than that. What I once saw as criticism, I now see as his wanting me to live out the full potential of who I am. He was a man that was determined to discover genuine love, genuine relationships, and a genuine life. His was a life in progress. No question was ever off the table with a guy like him, in terms of seeking to wrestle with the fullness of what it meant in either its accuracy or deception. He was authentic through and through, which so many found tremendously threatening, and others tremendously liberating. And this is the soul that we lost when we lost Jason.

So often we talked about the end, but never did I truly believe that I would experience a life further than his own. He had a way of allowing me to escape from the weight of life so that I could then continue on in the fight before me. The times in which we shared life together will forever serve as the photographs within my heart that have played since the day he was stolen from us. He was both a model and a flawed creature. I loved him as a brother, and yet so often wrestled with what made him seem so exceptional. He was the first to admit an error and the last to bear his weaknesses. Nevertheless I cannot help but feel that too much time was spent on deep discussions concerning the very things that have all changed by now. But who knew it would all turn out like this? I know we so often confess to the assuming belief that we will have someone in our life forever. But never once did I think that to ever be untrue of Jason. I grieve how the most recent years brought fewer connections with my friend, but how could I have ever guessed that they would come to an unexpected close. We had possibly thought that there were more chapters to write together, but the book has now been deemed to remain incomplete. No human relationship is without mistakes and sinful assumptions, but ours was one that held some kind of common ground beyond our different directions. We were both souls caught up in the quest of learning how to live alive. He was the type to follow up a wrestling match with a sincere hug. In many ways, he was a man's man, all the while searching for ways to break such a stereotype, or better yet, to help refashion it into the noble calling that it once held. Never have such words fallen short when I admit that I am going to miss him now that he is gone. Even with this past year serving me a variety of chances to continue on in a life absent of his words and compassion, only now am I coming to the reality that the grave was never a reality that we ever grow used to. Never once did I ever face even the slightest suggestion that I would live so few years before suffering such a loss. Jason was a man who taught me how to give more than I take, to lay my life down for the beauty of another. Deep was his mercy for those that knew of no compassion. Wide was his understanding of the weightier beliefs that have stood the test of time. And rich was his laugh, an event that I know now I took for granted for far too long. He taught me how to honor a soul above my own, and in that one act, he showed me the liberation of being set free from what has cost so many so much.

I miss you, Jason! Nothing has allowed me to ever forget all that we discovered along the way together (not that I have wanted to). Those simple pieces of life make up the very memories that only now stir such grief and sadness within me. Thank you for the gift that was continually given me by you through every blessed encounter, every late night conversation, and every shared connection!