My Eulogy

It's not easy to find the words to honor such a complex person, but I wanted to try, for Jon. If it's true that eyes are the window to the soul, then those piercing green eyes were a perfect way to catch a glimpse of the beauty of Jon’s soul. If you could strip away whatever it is that tormented him, underneath that you would find intense kindness and sensitivity. My dad remembered this week that in elementary school, Jon won an award for the kindest heart. Although he was mad because he wanted to be the best athlete, I believe he won the right award. Jon was both blessed and cursed with a heart that felt everything - both the good and the bad - so deeply...much more deeply than the rest of us, I think. Jon constantly sought to feed his mind with new information, with a passion that many of us admired and envied. He probably read more books in recent years than all of us put together. He taught himself Russian. I would bet he knew more about history, religion, or politics than many professors in those fields. I remember being so proud, when he met Mladen, and carried on a fully informed conversation about the Yugoslav civil war. Rena recalled that in his first woodshop, he figured out how to build by hand a machine that he could easily have bought, just for the gratification of doing it and to add to his craft. When he learned a new skill, he brought new meaning to the word mastery - if you saw him on a snowboard or any of his woodworking, you know what I mean. All of this speaks to the depth and intensity that we all loved about Jon. Yet with all this depth, Jon also really appreciated the simple things in life – like game of chess or a home-cooked meal – in fact, Jon was one of the few people I enjoyed cooking for. Jon so often humbly admired others, but did not realize how much others admired him. He loved deeply and was deeply loved – especially by me. I want to say so much more, but instead I will leave you with this story that I will cherish forever. Like Jon, it may seem ordinary on the surface, but underneath it is profound depth and wisdom.

As most of you know, Jon came to Florida just 3 weeks ago with us on vacation. In one of the few times we connected that week, Jon and I played 'Prokadima', the paddle ball game we played together as kids, on the beach. We were a good match, and while you might expect a cut-throat game between 2 high-achiever siblings, we actually cheered each other on as we made heroic and sometimes embarrassing efforts to hit the little blue ball. We played until it became necessary to go cool off in the ocean. As we walked into the water, he asked me if I wanted to swim out to the sandbar with him, as he had done himself the day before (I remember thinking he was crazy for doing it). I looked at how far out it seemed, and how much deep, dark water it required swimming through first. I told him I was too scared of what might be lurking in that dark water to do it, even though I am a good swimmer. He said, "I was scared too, but I just had to do it to conquer my fear. Come with me, trust me, you'll feel so good for doing it." So I went. And while we were swimming out, he asked me how I was doing, and I said "Ok, you?" and he said, "It's weird, but I'm not scared this time, because you're with me."

In Jon's honor, may we all feel so liberated in conquering our own fears, and may we always help each other swim through the deep dark waters.

There’s one more piece to this story. When we got to the sandbar, it wasn’t as shallow as we’d hoped. So while I was frustrated that I could barely touch with my feet, Jon said, “Let’s just float for a while.” My deepest prayer is that Jon now feels as I imagine he felt at that moment in the water – completely held, part of something much bigger than himself, and most importantly, not weighed down by anything. If there is anything that I believe would make him feel that way, it is being reunited with his mother, where they can never be separated again.