They say the largest and brightest stars in the sky burn more quickly than smaller stars. Apparently when a star is vast, it burns hydrogen fuel much more quickly than a smaller star. The result is a massive, brilliant star that shines intensely in the sky captivating us with its beauty. The length of time that star remains in the sky with its glittering power depends on how quickly it uses all of the fuel up.

My friend Jesse was a large, bright star. My friend Jesse did not live long. And while not here long, the life he lived was well lived. Like a massive star in the sky he was not with us long but he used the time he was given to make a great impact.

I’ve been struggling to write about his death. Since learning about his passing on Christmas Eve not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of him. Thoughts of him come to me scrambled. Every time I’d sit down to write fragments would come but not complete thoughts. It’s like my mind is a jumbled mess and it’s not computing Jesse is not on this side of heaven anymore.

And while it isn’t fully registering in my head the reality is that he is gone, and I’m having a hard time dealing with the grief left behind. I read somewhere that when grief arrives and parks itself in your heart it is there because before grief there was and is love. Grief is here because love came first. That makes so much sense and probably why this is so hard to write. Writing forces me to dive a little deeper into the grief when all I want to do is put a smile on my face and be “normal” again.

In the noise and hustle and bustle it is easier to pull off the “normal.” In the quiet moments, when I should be lying down to sleep, I think of Jesse and I cry. I cry because he meant so much to me and left a huge imprint on my heart.

Today I visited his Facebook page and saw a post he made a few months ago that he captioned, “Be a blessing to someone.” The post is a video of Maya Angelou asking viewers to consider how they can be a rainbow in someone else’s cloud. The post made me smile because it is so Jesse. He truly spread love wherever he went and made it his mission to uplift the spirits of whoever was down. Seeing that post reminded me his efforts to uplift others were intentional. He truly asked himself, “How can I be a blessing to someone else today?” and he did it.

He blessed others in quiet ways whether that be pausing what he was working on to walk alongside you and listen to whatever was making you feel sad and blue. I’ll miss the quiet ways he made me feel seen and valued like sitting next to me on a bench outside our school building and listening to me ramble about my ideas to shift thinking on our campus when it came to instruction or how he listen intently when I described to him an idea I had to show appreciation to our school leader knowing I didn’t know a thing about how to make something as simple as an iMovie. He’d laugh with me whenever I’d run ideas by him before sharing them with others, encourage me, and then step up to help me with execution. I just had to tell him when and where to be. Jesse took it from there.

I’ll miss how Jesse handled my sadness. I’ll miss how Jesse handled me not feeling safe. I’ll miss his gift to not make me feel weak when I was vulnerable with him. He always knew what to say to validate my feelings. He also didn’t hesitate to be there for me when I was uncomfortable. He was a protector.

When I was an assistant principal, there was a time a parent yelled at me in my office. She cursed at me, charged at me, and stopped herself from following through on threats to physically harm my person within an inch of my face all while I sat in a chair and she towered over me while another colleague who was not Jesse watched in horror. I had no idea how loud the woman was yelling at me because mentally I’d shut down and was repeating to myself to remain calm so I could keep my job. Mentally I was so done in the moment that I didn’t even process grabbing my car keys, my phone, and leaving the rest of my belongings at work. I didn’t even realize I was driving to the place I felt safe in the middle of the work day: home.

The next day Jesse asked me where I’d gone. He’d been looking for me. We took one of our walks and I confided in him what happened. In the moment in the most endearing way he said, “Jeanine, I am so sorry that happened to you.” I knew he genuinely meant it. Not even ten minutes later he texted me:

“I will let the front office know that I would like to be present with you for the next situation.”

He then circled back to find me in person and say, “You know, if a parent shows up to talk to you that irate, you do not have to agree to meet. You have the right to respectfully say, “Let’s revisit this when we’ve cooled off,” and have the receptionist give them your contact info. And if all else fails, call me. I’ll be there with you.”

It wasn’t Jesse’s job to protect me. It wasn’t Jesse’s job to advise me. It wasn’t his job to stand with me in the face of adversity.

But he did.

Because that’s who he was.

Courageous.

Kind.

Loving.

Protective.

All of these attributes are just a few of the reasons I will always honor him.

Jesse meant so much to me. He was a confidant. He was loyal. He was my friend.

Writing about all the ways he made an impact during his short time on earth would lead me to write a novel. He simply went out of his way to be a rainbow in somebody else’s cloud. He:

• Walked up and down the hallway singing on his guitar to greet staff and students
• Made sure every teacher got a teacher appreciation gift one year by interviewing a variety of students they taught and typing quotes their kids said about them on beautiful paper that had rainbow dots at the top. He laminated the paper and gave them out. I still have mine. He got some great quotes!
• Led the charge to make sure all staff got end of year awards. Little known fact: If the administration team got stuck creating an award from a staff member because maybe they didn’t interact with that person often we’d go to Jesse because he was so intentional about connecting with and/or observing everyone on staff. He valued everyone.
• Helped our students who struggled to manage their anger well learn coping strategies to better understand and respond to their anger. I loved watching him execute his menu of options with students who needed to cool off. They could choose from things on the menu like praying, meditation, going for walks, breathing exercises, doodling, etc.

You know how they say some people are just good humans? Jesse was a good human. I am so grateful God saw it fit for us to cross paths. I had no idea singing karaoke with him one night would lead to such a beautiful friendship; one that would forever imprint my heart. What a gift it was and is to have been known by Jesse and to be known by him.

You’ll forever be in my heart my dear friend. See you later, rest well.

With love,

Jeanine