I feel like I need to write this. I don't know why. It's all dramatic and personal and I'm rarely the type to want to let everyone with internet access read this, but for some reason this feels necessary. I've had a few conversations recently that keep me thinking along these lines (a good talk this morning with a new good friend) and I want to put this out there...
Jason's gone. He has passed away. And I have to figure out what that means. To me anyway. He was my friend. He was my business partner. He was the guy that would go to a rock concert with me on a Tuesday night. He was my tour guide in my own city, pointing out what I've come to learn are called Schrowe Facts. He was my IT help. He was my drinking buddy. He was the only person on the planet that shared so many memories of Europe with me. He was my traveling companion. He was a part of my life, and as the routine of each day moves along I realize more and more what a large part of that daily life he was. And what is he now?
Man, this is harder to write than I thought it was going to be...
When a loved one dies, I immediately resort back to the inner Catholic schoolboy in me - 12 years of Catholic school ingrains in you that you go to heaven or you go to hell, right? Not so easy when you start trying to figure it out on your own, though. In the past 10 years I've had plenty of time to determine where I stand on the big issues. Whether or not there is an afterlife is a pretty big issue. I wish I'd had enough time to figure that one out. I have a hard time believing in the sort of standard view of what heaven is - harps and clouds and robes and boring shit that Jason would not have preferred. I will say this: I do believe in an afterlife. I do. I alternate depending on days as to what it is like, but at my most cynical and scientific I believe that when a person dies the human body releases an energy. Whether or not that energy is a soul with a conscience, or just carbon and oxygen and hydrogen atoms, I don't know. But that released energy has to go somewhere, right?
Amazing how trying to write about the afterlife makes me fully realize how little I understand.
At my most optimistic, "heaven" is whatever you believe it is. Whatever you hope it is. I wonder what Jason hoped heaven was. I suppose I have a few ideas...
His presence here in this life is certainly with me. With us all, I'm sure. But even that idea is something that makes me feel like a child when I try and think about what that means. Is he in the room with me? Is he inside me? Does he know what I'm thinking? What I'm seeing and hearing? Or do I need to talk out loud to him? Am I talking loud enough? Is he here right now, or is he hanging out with his sister for awhile? I hope it'll be my turn soon.
Will I get to see Jason again? That's the question that keeps haunting me into delving into this subject more and more. The thought of never seeing him again is almost too much to bear. I've been listening to Radiohead a lot lately (which is rarely healthy when you're already depressed) and the last line from Motion Picture Soundtrack keeps resonating through my ears:
I will see you
In the next life
I hope so...
Friday, December 01, 2006
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5 comments:
Hey There. Jason lived with my ex-boyfriend for a bit back in college and after I moved back to Chicago we recently exchanged emails and I read this blog from time to time and always had a good laugh. Needless to say I was shocked when I saw he had passed away on his myspace profile. Although I was not very close to him it was always obvious was a funny, talented, and caring person he was. I can only imagine what you are going through right now. I know that Jason has touched many lives and that you definitely will see him again. Take care.
Its weird I find radiohead music uplifting not depressing, its all the jolly pop songs that I find depressing.
Having lost my father when I was 23 (now 33) the only thing I can say is that time is the big factor. Over time you can look back on memories etc and not feel sad but actually have a smile and a laugh.
all the best
Simon
there was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
I have to say that losing Jason shook me to my core. It is the passing of friends and loved ones that makes us investigate our beliefs with real scrutiny. I know what I believe, but that doesn't erase the fact that I will never get to call Jason and complain about the Hawks losing to DePaul (PUKE)! That's hard to swallow.
I am a follower of Christ, so I certainly believe in Heaven and Hell. What gets difficult for me is imagining where each of us will end up. That's what haunts me, b/c I wonder if and hope that I will be with Jason in eternity. Please God, give us that chance. I hope I don't have to play a harp, but I'll jam on that thing if it means I can hang out w/ Schrowe again.
Death is the only absolute in all our lives. Everyone can agree that they will die. It's what happens to us after death that really separates us.
enough on that...
Is it wierd to emulate Jason? I've started listening to his music, and I'm going to read some of his books. Somehow it tricks my mind into believing he is still around, influencing my taste in music, etc.
It's not weird to emulate.. that is how you keep his spirit alive.
(side note: I had to witness the KU loss a few rows behind the Kansas bench, amidst all the depaul fans... PAINFUL.)
Jason. You're going to see him again no doubt.
You said it yourself man. Whatever happens at death, that person, or soul or whatever you want to call it just can't dissolve into nothing.
He's out there, and every time you think about him, remind yourself of that. It won't feel like such a loss that way.
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