In the end you think about the beginning. We weren’t close as children, but he moved to Ottawa to start university the same year I went there for my first job, and meeting each other again as adults, we discovered that we liked each other. I remember arguing about the nature of beauty, and going to see Stop Making Sense half a dozen times, and crashing on his couch in later years whenever I came back to Canada. I remember the first time I met the wonderful woman he married, and holding his newborn sons, and endless games of chess. I remember him coming down to Boston to spend a few days with me when I didn’t realize myself how much I needed someone to talk to, and all the times he and his family made me feel welcome when I had nowhere else to go. I remember him making the woman I married feel like family, how he paid his debts even when he was facing ruin, and how he never stopped trying to create something amazing. I remember the look on his face last November when he told me he had cancer again, and that the last thing he said to me was, “Remember, you still have a lot of good times in front of you.”
Goodbye, Jeff. I promised you I wouldn’t regret anything, but I’m going to miss you so much.
November 18, 1965 - March 20, 2018