Do You Really Know?

I had an interesting conversation with some friends over dinner the other night.  Actually, I've had this conversation a few times since Jason died.  It's an important conversation, and one I've never written about.  So let's talk.

When Jason died, there were a lot of things that had to be done in a very short amount of time.  Most importantly, the planning of the memorial service in Dallas.  There really wasn't much of a plan, per se...that is until I was standing there with a microphone in my hand welcoming everyone on that beautiful Saturday.  What transpired over the next nearly two hours was incredible, though.  I joked afterwards that I couldn't have produced it better had I tried.

The thing that was so great about the service was that there was someone there representing every aspect of Jason's life.  His parents were there to represent his childhood.  His college friends were there.  His first work buddies were there.  His gay friends were there.  His Lone Star Ride family was there.  His work family was there.  His best friends were there.  Hell...even some people from the oncology team who treated him showed up.  There was about 150-200 people there in all.  It truly was a mind-blowing sight.

What happened next was even more incredible, though.  One by one, people got up and spoke about what an amazing person Jason was.  They spoke about how he touched their lives - even in the slightest way - and how he meant so much to them.  There were some he hadn't spoken to in months, even years... but it didn't matter.  The impact was there.  His parents and I talked after the service and joked that we learned things about him there that we had never known... and maybe for the first time, his parents learned what a truly amazing person their son was.

But, what killed me about that beautiful sight - all those wonderful things people said about him... what hurt the most was that he wasn't there to hear it himself.  Oh, I'm sure you're thinking "he was there" and "he heard it all".  But, don't you think it would've meant more, had more impact had he heard it for himself when he was alive?  It got me thinking... as a society, why are we so afraid to tell those around us how we feel about them?  Why do we hide our feelings?  Why do we hide our praise for others?  Why do we keep our pride from our friends, family, and other loved ones?

Do you know what people really think about you?  Do you know what kind of impact you've had on someone else's life?  Have you been told lately how much you mean to someone - your partner/spouse or otherwise?  If you can't answer yes to all of these questions, then there is something wrong.  How do we fix that?  I don't know, but maybe it starts with us.  Maybe it starts with us taking charge of our feelings and becoming more open to divulging how we feel.  We should all live like we're speaking at a funeral - as odd as that sounds.  But it's true.  Live and speak freely to people as if you were speaking at their funeral.  Tell them how you really feel about them and stop hiding behind your heart.  Let them know before it's too late.  Let them know so they have the pleasure of hearing it, taking it in, and letting it fill them with the kind of warmth that only comes from that kind of love.

Right here, right now - I pledge to tell everyone in my life - anyone who has had an impact on me - exactly how I feel about them.  Will you join me and take the same pledge?

Until next time --
Stuart