Linda and I were classmates and dorm mates at Mount Holyoke College where we became fast friends. Despite different career paths and nomadic domesticity paths, we sustained the "friendship connection" through the oft maligned Holiday Letters, which are usually sent out at the end of the year. Then came our 25th Reunion, where through some sense of witchcraft, we (unbeknownst to each other) conned our husbands into escorting us to an ALL WOMEN'S COLLEGE reunion. Hallelujah and WOW, let the fireworks commence. Jason and Alan hit it off like gangbusters. We began planning visits and trips and all types of occasions where we could just relax or be adventurous together. It is with joy that I remember and treasure our many travel adventures (six international trips) with Jason and Linda. I especially remember successfully seeking and then toasting the midnight sun on a cruise/working ship making its way up through the Norwegian fiords (one passenger on board had made the trip 8 times seeking that elusive midnight sun --- we brought him good luck). But what fun we had at each of the little local ports, exploring the heart of Norwegian Villages while fish, mail and other cargo were off loaded and then new fish, mail and cargo on-loaded. The little shops were a treasure trove of things that we "just had to have." My life of knowing Jason is one of joy. Not only was he a dear friend during the "good times," he gave me the encouragement and support I desperately needed during a medical dark period of my life. I thank him with my whole heart for that. But that is the Jason I knew, someone who truly cared about people, committing himself fully to sharing himself in enhancing the lives of others. I remember the last dinner I prepared for Jason. This was a few days prior to his leaving Dataw to go north for new testing. It was birthday time for Linda, Alan and Harriett, wife of another couple who are good friends. So I did a joint birthday dinner, complete with baloons, cake, candles and tacky singing birthday cards. I prepared a surf and turf menu because Jason absolutely loved lobster and Linda prefers steak. Since this was such a special occasion and I was not sure when I might be making dinner for Jason again, I got the BIG ones, 2 and 1/2 pounders. BIG MISTAKE! My newly purchased lobster crackers were as effective as an ant against an elephant. So we had to resort to hammers. (You should see Linda wielding a hammer!!!) But once retrieved from the shell, the meat was tender, moist and sweet. Jason ate all 2 and 1/2 pounds. It saddens me to think that it was the last dinner I would ever make for him. What is so bittersweet and heartbreaking is that the four of us, along with three other couples, had made plans and reserved a ten person barge for another vintaage wine/gourmet food extravangaza on a fantasy barge so we could explore the mysteries and beauty of northern Burgundy. Jason and the rest of us were rip-roaring excited about the treat ahead of us. But ever so sadly, the trip, which was booked last year, was scheduled for this month, September, the month that Jason left us with our grief. (Because of Jason's prognosis, and the fact that it would be unthinkable to continue with the trip without him, we cancelled the trip last March.) But we must take heart in the fact that he shared so much of himself with us and that he left us with fondest memories of the wit and joy he brought into our lives. I cannot fully express how much I am going to miss my dearest friend. Jason, Bon Voyage! May the music you love so passionately always be with you, resonating in your heart and soul. May there always by a first growth vintage glass of wine at you side for sipping as the music fills your spirit. And may there be a steamed lobster on your plate every now and then. I miss you terribly, Sheila