a year.

this day has loomed over me for months. 

i've looked at the calendar. watched the number. felt a weight everytime someone tried to book an appt with me. i did my best to avoid the idea that this day would inevitably come.

and turns out, you can't change the calendar, or time, or the concept of 'memories'. this day, last year, one of the most important people in my life, took his own life. and we (his wife, family, friends, me) have spent the past 365 days learning what that means for the rest of us who remained. 

i have spent a year crying every day. I have spent a year sorting through photos, and staring into space. I have spent a year distracted and distant. non communicative, and shut off from the world around me. I’ve spent a year forcing laughter and smiles, and a whole year replaying last conversations and interactions over and over. I’ve spent a year ridden with guilt, pain, sadness and a weight I can’t shake.

I have spent a year worrying. an amount of worrying that positivity can’t take care of. an amount of worry that gets diagnosed, and medicated, and talked about in campaigns by big companies trying to ‘fix’ our brains and hearts.

i worried about a world without jake. that a world without jake meant less laughter, and less fun. that a world without jake meant no one to fight for the environment, and no one to eat all the leftovers. no more music or half written puns sent by text message. I worried that without him, the world would be a less compassionate place – a place where people simply weren’t as kind, or thoughtful, or loving.

and selfishly, I became all of these worries. I felt less like I wanted to love. less like I wanted to care. and while the words came out – words about compassion and trust and embracing love – my soul was not interested in being fun, or funny, or free. I wasn’t interested in fighting for anyone or anything – because it took all my energy to just fight for me.

and it took a year. and this morning – lying in bed – I had a thought.

the world lost a person. a soul. and an incredible, amazing one at that. In my opinion – and the opinion of many others – one of the best souls this earth will ever know. that person made this world exponentially better. he made the people around him better people. he made moments fun, and meaningful. he made people feel like their best selves – like they were the most important person there. in that moment. he made quiet differences, for the earth, and for its people. he made mundane things seem exciting, and he made frightening things approachable. He brought people into his circle, putting his arm around them, and inviting them into his person – sharing thoughts, music, academia, cooking (oy, the cooking), adventures. he lived and wholly, sincerely and lovingly invited people to be part of that. 

but here’s the thing. I had to learn that while the earth lost a soul, it didn’t lose those things. it didn’t lose fun. It didn’t lose meaning. It didn’t lose the people who had become better because of jake. life didn’t lose the excitement or the approachability. it lost a person, but that person left with us – with the world – the ability to hold onto these things.

something finally hit me. something that will take time to stick, but has given me a light. It was these videos of children doing implausible things – showing and giving compassion, love, empathy, strength, kindness, appreciation, gratitude, warmth, and other incredibly adult emotions. they are putting others first, and they are sharing with this world a sense of community. and it finally occurred to me, this morning (while I was submitting myself to a heavy dose of moping), that the world has not lost kindness. it has not lost all sense of hope, or compassion. it has not been lacking empathy or kindness. it has not lost love. these things are simply showing up in different ways, in different places. and it’s a generation of children – who we are teaching how to be – who hold the way to this kind of a world.

and while my fear, in this past year, has been trying to learn how to live in a world without jake – a world that I have perceived of as devoid of all positive things – I mistook that world as a world without everything that jake brought to our lives. as it turns out, it’s a world without jake. NOT a world without heart. it’s a world without his texts, or his facial expressions, his hugs, or his terrible handwriting on incredibly thoughtful notes (and drawings). and that's a very sad thing. but it’s not a world without the love, the strength, the determination, the loyalty, or the depth that he lived.

and keeping jake alive – in soul, mind, spirit, and memory – is bringing those attributes to the table. honouring those who live lives of love. being true to humour and honour. listening to people, and listening to ourselves.

and, being kind. to others. and mostly, being kind to ourselves. 

I’m sad. I will be sad for a long time – probably forever, in certain ways, and at certain times. but the world feels monumentally easier to live in – to be in – knowing that jake has left us some of his heart. I just needed a year to figure that out. and will likely need to rest of my life to live a small portion of what he taught us.