As I have written many times – to him and to others – Jamie was the best friend I never met.
Many years ago he and I got acquainted on the old MySpace social media website. Since then it has always amazed me how close we became. Something just seemed to “click” between us. He would tell me about life in Hinton and when I told him about Hendricks, my town here in Minnesota (Jamie always called my state “Minny”), things didn’t feel all that different. We both loved small town life. We both had dreams and ambitions that always seemed just a little bit out of reach. We supported each other through uncertain times, anxieties, career transitions, and touches of depression. I admired his grit and determination and he must have seen enough things in me that were worth sticking with for all those years.
We knew that someday we would meet up and when we did we would talk the night away and finally figure out why we felt like brothers from different mothers.
Now that won’t happen.
It’s 1,332 miles (2,143 km) from Hendricks to Hinton. 1,117 miles (1,797 km) to Calgary. I could have made that drive many times over the years. Or flown. But I didn’t. And the regret for not doing so is deep. I’m sorry, Jamie, I failed you on that.
So for those of you who were his family, who knew Jamie in person, who saw him often, who maybe did talk the night away together, who went to hockey games with him, who pushed him at the gym, who stood beside him – you are the fortunate ones, you have deep and real memories, and I envy you and am thankful that you were a part of his life.
The night before his passing – not knowing that he had already left us – I prayed that God would welcome Jamie when the time came, wrap him in warmth and light, and hold him close. Now that has come to be.
Presscore, the Olsonator misses you. My unmet friend, our first meeting has been postponed for awhile.