Jason is my brother. And like a good brother he taught me a lot of things. He taught me just about everything I know about humor, adversity and finding humor in spite of adversity. Though far from perfect, in many ways, he was perfect for me. He was the voice I heard encouraging me before an interview, and comforting me after a disappointment. We were there for each other. But, I could have been more present. I could have been more attentive. I could have been more aware.
In 2020, when the world went on lockdown due to COVID-19, I scrambled to gather medical supplies for my home and for his. I sent a gallon of hand sanitizer from Florida to New Hampshire to his doorstep, and when the grocery store shelves emptied I hired someone to deliver pizzas and Ben & Jerry’s to his kitchen so he wouldn’t go hungry. But, when I had a small window of opportunity to board a flight and travel to NH to see him and make sure that he was alright during the pandemic, I didn’t. I stayed home.
I stayed home. And he died.
The day before he died we had a dumb conversation. Most days we talked about things that mattered. But not that day. That day we talked about boredom and pink hair dye and Alexa. But not love. I didn’t end my last conversation with my best friend with love.
Jason is my brother. And like a good brother he taught me a lot of things. Like, to never forget to Say I Love You (SILY™).
Now, I exist and am passionate about helping you live a life with more love and less regret.