impacting the world

I've been putting off writing my blog, because I have been wanting to write about my friend, Josh. Yes, I have cool adventure stories to tell from the "Menopause" road, but tonight I want to honor my friend. Maybe it is the full moon, and the convergence of two major holidays this weekend, Passover and Easter that makes me feel it is finally time to write this story.

Back in February, just before Valentine's Day, I got word that one of my friends that used to work with me at UMass as a student had died. I was distraught, and like so many others, desperate to find out what happened. Among ourselves, we conjectured about how this possibly could have happened. Was it a car accident, a result of the winter weather, perhaps even a hate crime? He was studying to become a vet in Edinburgh, Scotland, and was halfway through his studies - being so far away, we had no idea what could have happened.

What was farthest from anyone's thoughts was that it would be suicide. Of all the thousands of people I have met in my life, Josh is one of the handful that I know that truly embraced life. He loved and laughed totally and completely. When you had his attention, you felt like the most important person in the world.

In all honesty, I think Josh was more important to me than I to him - and that is okay. I make friends with many of the students that come through the FAC and work to help support themselves. Some I become very close to, and some just become dear to me. Josh and I were friends, but I really don't think he ever realized just how dear he became to me. And it wasn't just because of his contagious smile and laugh, or his passion and zeal for his life and complete joy in following his chosen field. Josh loved animals, and anyone who knew him never doubted for a moment that he would make an amazing large animal vet.

Much of the affection I came to feel for Josh was a result of watching the man he was becoming. I saw a leader, someone who took the time to help his coworkers understand the job they were learning to perform, who had infinite patience to teach (although much less patience when informed that he was overstepping boundaries and doing someone else's job! *grin*). I saw him as a "big brother" - I will never forget when I was working a production with Amherst Leisure Services and he brought his "little brother" to see the show, and respectfully asked if he could bring him backstage. I gave them a tour of the show, and invited Josh to take him to see where the front of house lights were hung (a place few people see), and the little brother was delighted. I was so impressed with Josh's generosity with this young man, and his respect for my position as the stagehand on duty.

After Josh left UMass, we kept touch on Facebook, emailing very occasionally. I would check his page now and again, more often than not laughing at his escapades at vet school in Scotland. He was exactly where he wanted to be, doing exactly what he wanted to be doing - all was right in the world. Until it came crashing down. The night I heard Josh died, I was in total disbelief. I sobbed myself to sleep, and slept fitfully. For days anything would send me into tears (and I even had friends call to check on me "because I know how you are" - thanks, Stephen and Lucas!). I was inconsolable, at a loss to understand how someone so incredibly strong and vibrant could really be gone.

Then I finally found out the how - it was suicide. He hung himself. To be honest, this knowledge stuns me even more than the fact that Josh is gone. It actually scares me, knowing how engaged in his passion Josh was. It is terrifying to think that if someone that connected can slip away, what is it that keeps everyone else here? I mean, it is the things that give us joy - like pursuing our life's dreams and passions - that make us want to continue to go forward in this life. It always seems more tenuous a hold for those who either have given up their dreams, refuse to have the courage to follow them, or never found what they were. I know that at times I have struggled with depression in my life, and fought to find things to hold to and keep me going. The thought of someone like Josh letting go - that rocks me to my core.

It makes me wonder if Josh ever really knew the number of people he impacted during his time in this world. To read the tributes on his facebook page are humbling - so many people loved and were touched by this incredible young man. I wonder sometimes what the turnout will be at my funeral. Will there be people who think I made a difference in their lives?

I vowed a long time ago to tell people how I feel about them. This experience has made me even more committed to that. I want the people I love to know that I love them while they are still here to enjoy it.

And to you, Josh - when I see you in my mind, you will always be with me that Sunday afternoon at the Hadley farm, sitting in the dirt in the goat pen, with the triplet goats Harry, Ron, and Hermione playing "king of the mountan" on your back - and the hugest grin on your face...