Tribute to John-Alex Mason

This is a tribute to my friend, John-Alex. He died last year, 2011, in October. I still can't believe it. He was 35 years old, an extraordinarily talented musician, a beloved father, friend, husband, son, brother. He had a quick smile, an incredibly humble and open approach to life, and he was a true friend to me.

I met John-Alex through a mutual friend. We didn't spend all that much time together, but we became fast friends anyway. He was interested in conservation biology and planning, which i was steering toward as well, in my studies and eventually my career. Even after he quit the conservation planning track for a career (to go make incredible blues music), he consulted with me as i wended my way through the trials and tribulations of finding my own path. He counseled me on several cornerstone occasions - times when i was considering a big change or taking a risk for my job, my path, my life. He shared his insight with me, and encouraged me to find my own way, without judgment. I miss him dearly, whenever i come to find myself understanding that he is indeed gone. Most of the time, his death doesn't seem real; like some off-color joke, told to an unappreciative crowd and leaving a bad taste in our mouths. What do we do with this, with the loss that is inevitably part of life? We grieve, we find ways through, we tell stories of remembrance.

John-Alex, i'm thinking of you this week as i make some decisions about my life path.  And i'm thinking about your widow, and your children.  I wish you were still here.  There must be a new normal for this world without you in it, but our lives will always be moved by your genuine, shining presence.  You made the world a better place, and now i can think of your contribution, and i think of how short life is in every way, and how there's no time to lose, to celebrate and appreciate each and every moment.  Like one of my Buddhist teachers said, its like counting the stars.  We will never get there, but we still try, over an over, and appreciate all the beauty along the way.

So long, dear friend.  I miss you.