March 17, 2012. Saint Patrick’s Day. That was the last day I saw Jason in person. My husband, Rich, and I met Jason at his Ladera Ranch home, then piled into Jason’s car to go over to Jason Z and John’s. We offered to drive, in fact begged to drive. We had a bunch of stuff (wine, flowers, forget what else) to take over to the dinner party. But Jason insisted on driving. Jason usually did the driving, which was okay, as he was good at it. A group of us from Miraleste High School ’88, for the last couple years, had tried to meet every couple of months. Ali T was the one who usually started off a group email, and Jason would get us to fight to figure out a time. We got over to J & J’s, and Jason made his usual comment of, “This amazing house always makes me feel like such the little kid.” We ribbed Jason that Jason’s own house actually in turn made us feel that way. Shannon had something come up last minute, so at the dinner party that day it was just J&J, Jason, Ali, myself, and Paulo the cat (Think Baci, only on weight watchers. Paulo too has passed on since then.) And, for the next several hours, we ate great food, drank John’s delicious mixed drinks. We told stories. And, we laughed. My sides always hurt from laughing with this dinner party group—a group Shannon lovingly dubbed, “The Breakfast Club.” After, my husband and I went back to Jason’s. Jason asked if we wanted to stay for a bit, but we boring married with kid types were tired. I gave Jason a hug and a kiss, Jason gave Rich a hug too, and we were off and heading back to Pasadena. Jason and I communicated many times after that over the next few months, despite that I would never see him again in person. That was another thing Jason was good at—he’d catch you by landline, his cell from the car, Facebook chat, email, or even on Facetime via iphones. When I was told Jason had passed, I actually had to search my brain long and hard to try to remember when it was that I’d seen Jason in person last. We still had kept in touch on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis--even when he was in Bulgaria visiting Yana. I think the thing I keep returning to is how much I miss Jason’s hug. He could bear hug you like no one else. Jason called me on the way to Ventura on June 23. We talked about 20 minutes. I’m so glad I was able to take the call, and hear all the latest about not just him, but his entire cast of characters he loved to go on about so much. Jason was a story-teller. He loved people. He loved his family, and he loved his friends. He promised to call me the next day after the race. We agreed to get together after I proposed dissertation by July 13 deadline, with The Pageant of the Masters, water park swimming, our kid’s birthday party (Uncle Jason was always invited), PBC Beach in PV, and another dinner gathering with the Breakfast Club--all of these were in the que. Jason loved life, and we loved him for it. A bunch of people at Jason’s service said that Jason lived more life in 42 years than many people would live in 100. It sounds so cliché, but it really is so completely true. We’ll all miss you, Jase--more than words can even express <3.