a simple whisper

[leanwellback]

I suppose I should make the first post here, but I'm so overwhelmed with everything that I can't even begin to properly express my grief. Jason and I were friends for eight years, together for five and a half years, and married for just over a year. I met him the day after my 17th birthday. I've always said meeting him was the best birthday present the universe could have given me. He was (and is and will always be) my soulmate and I can't believe I won't ever hold him again.

He often said knowing that he made someone smile every day was the biggest accomplishment he could wish to achieve. I think the amount of people mourning his loss right now is testament to his success.

I'm trying to collect as many pictures of him from the last few years as I can. His dad doesn't have any recent photos, and Jason was camera shy to say the least. I have a few, but if you have any you'd be comfortable sharing I would appreciate it so, so much. (Please remember to lock any posts with photos in ♥)

Feel free to post here, no matter how close you were or how long you've known him.

(no subject)

[kitsune_dream]

I met Jason in 2005, and on his grand tour of America in 2006, he stayed with me and my roommate AG for two nights in Seattle. He was still fairly well mobile back then, although it wasn't too long after that he had the first of many relapses.

Some necessary background for the story I want to tell is that, on April 3rd, I had been irradiated as treatment for my Grave's Disease. I'd told my doctor that we were going to have company in a couple of weeks, and he had told me I'd be fine to share close quarters (it was the car ride I was worried about) for several hours at a time by then.

We drove up to Richmond, B.C. to pick him up on April 15th, and, as we were coming back into the United States, there was the usual back-up at the border. Something was going on, though, and we had no earthly idea what was happening. A bunch of extra patrol officers were out checking vehicles, and they had a couple of dogs out there sniffing, too. An officer got to our car and asked if anyone was under the care of a doctor. We all looked at each other and shook our heads. I'd been discharged the week before so it never even occurred to me what he meant. They made twenty cars across five lanes pull over and they handed each group an orange ticket with "gamma alert" written on it. Everyone who'd got pulled over were lined up, and loudly complaining. We stood in line for twenty minutes, and finally a guard came out and yelled, "Has anyone received radiation therapy in the past few weeks?" I put my hand up, and they--thankfully--let the rest of those poor folks go. Our fun, however, was just beginning.

The guard took us inside the building and then a lady poked her head out of a door and said, "Take them to the Quiet Room." (Trust me, those words were definitely capitalized!) So, we got taken to the Quiet Room. It was a smallish room off the border guards offices, directly adjoined to their weapons lockers. The three of us were all, this is an interrogation room, what the hell!
And then Jason and AG proceed to laugh about being inept terrorists, while I sit there going, OMG please don't do that, we'll all be thrown in jail OMG OMG over and over again. About ten minutes later--presumably enough time for us to have considered our bad behavior--the lady guard came into the room and stood behind the counter. She had what looked like a ray gun in her hand--it was actually a radiation meter--and told me to stand behind the line that was taped on the floor. Jason and AG were sitting on the chairs all, O__O, while she pointed the device at me. It beeped and then she set it down on the counter and backed out of the room and said through the door, "Pick it up and tell me if what's on the screen is correct." It had correctly identified the radiation as medical I-131, and I told her that is what I'd had done. I set it back down on the counter and she told me to go sit down with the others, and she didn't come back in until I was seated. They took AG's keys and drove her car to a separate area where they ran tests to make certain there were no further sources of radiation in it.

About thirty minutes later, they brought the keys back. When the lady heard that Jason still had to clear customs, she brought him the papers and helped him fill them out, which was quite lovely of her. For whatever reason, they couldn't stamp and clear him from the Quiet Room, but she told him to go around and meet her at the front of the line out front. I guess they felt that, having terrorized us, they could now be helpful? I don't know, but once we were back in the car and safely in Washington, I put my arm around Jason and said, "Welcome to America." We all laughed until we cried. After that kind of experience, you are bonded for life, and so we were.

I'm so very thankful that we spent time in the Quiet Room together, even though it wasn't a lot of fun at the time. I'm thankful that I met him and hugged him and showed him my favorite parts of Seattle.

My life has been immeasurably enriched by his presence. He often referred to himself as a field mouse, but he was my little hawk, brave and so very strong. I'm going to miss him every day, but I have a Jason shaped space in my heart and he lives there, pain-free and filled with love and joy as always.

I would also like to say thank you to James and Rhiannon. He loved the both of you so much, and you brought him such love and joy, it was a genuine pleasure to see it and hear him talk about you. Please know that you're in all of our hearts and on our minds as we stumble forward.

To all of Jason's friends, I send hugs and good thoughts. I'm glad we have this place to share our love for him, and I'm glad you're here.