It seems like such a long time ago that Jamie Levi walked — well, more like stormed — into my life.
A smile that could light up a thousand skyscrapers and a laugh that you’d recognize from around a dark corner, Jamie was one of those special souls who had the ability to brighten the lives of those around her. She had her own demons from time to time, mind you, but she still always found ways to lift the spirits of the people she blessed with her friendship.
Jamie and I had a special relationship in that we thought about dating, held hands and snuggled for a week, decided not to date, became great friends and then she eventually set me up with her sister, Jessica, who I dated on and off throughout my sophomore year of college. We kind of formed a three-person bond as both Jessica and I were — and probably still are — very complicated individuals and Jamie knew us both so well and she kind of became the glue in the fixture.
Regardless, no matter what happened, we all stayed good friends thereafter and would always be there for each other, even after she transferred out. My memory races to a night sleeping on the floor of her house in Ohio, laughing, talking stupid and literally being the young souls we were at the time, or to a night of Jamie sneaking me in and out of the girls’ dormitory, just for the hell of it. Our bond was strong, and our souls very much kindred in many ways.
Whether it was Jamie’s inability to say the word “old,” which she pronounced “owed,” or the pride she took in Jessica’s amazingly gorgeous singing voice, Jamie was always chipper when all eyes were on her, and she kept her own personal demons within a small circle of friends. We all leaned on one another when the weight of the world became too much to bear and we helped carry each other through those darkest of hours.
In college, all you have are your friends. Other than that, your first dose of independent reality is like a cold bucket of ice on a sub-zero winter’s morn. We became our own foundation, along with plenty of other friends, in what became our little tribe of goof. In what seems to be a pattern in my life, I always tend to travel in a large and loyal pack, and this pack was no different.
I was playing baseball for our college, so springs became a little more of a narcissistic time for me but Jamie would still be there, when she could, and our friendship was always alive and well, even if we hadn’t found time to spend together for a few weeks at a time — the truest test of a real friendship. We had our moments where we wanted to punch each other in the belly, but they were few and far between and normal for any friendship of merit.
The phone call came in the middle of the morning.
I remember it well because I was sitting in a soundproof recording studio working my first month at a TV production studio here in Las Vegas. It was Jessica, whom I hadn’t spoken with in a while. In fact, I hadn’t heard from Jamie since I had graduated college and moved out west.
Mind you, this is before Facebook or MySpace kept the world connected with a mere mouse click, but somehow Jessica had managed to find me at work, and hearing her voice not only startled me, but also sent a jolt of butterflies throughout my stomach as I tried to figure out why Jess was calling me at work, out of the blue.
Her words echoed in my ears as she uttered the last thing I thought I’d hear that morning, “Jamie’s gone.” Everything thereafter turned into a blur as my eyes watered, and a burning sensation flamed up my spine through my soul. Her remaining words sounded like a mumble as I struggled with the reality of it all. All I could make out was "car," "accident," and "gone" before my mind began spinning like a top.
Doing my best to comfort Jessica, who at this point was — in essence — emotionally in shock and trying to be as strong as she possibly could despite losing her big sister, my words rang hollow even in my own head. We spoke for a great deal of time before I hung up the phone and slid down into our studio couch reserved for clients, frozen, not knowing what my next physical move nonetheless emotional move might be.
My boss, sensing the life being sucked out of me, asked if I’d like the afternoon off to get myself back together. I numbingly nodded before walking out to my car and driving off towards the foothills of the southern Nevada desert, where I finally let out the pent up emotions inside, wetting the dry ground with my tears and wallowing in the immense sense of loss under the blazing orange January sky.
Even now, 10 years later, I can still take my heart back to that moment, where life got a little darker and someone I cared deeply for was stripped from our lives. The feeling is strong, loosely tied with whatever comfort I can latch onto.
When someone special passes on too soon, there are profound moments in one’s life where that person still finds their way back into your heart, comforting you, giving you hope when life seems to have been sapped of all joy.
On a lonesome night not too long ago, when my life hit an internal crossroads cloaked in failure, fear and doubt, I felt her — or perhaps the memory of her — comforting me.
It was there, on that hopeless night, SHE found me. I heard the first sound through my hapless tears and the echo of Kings of Leon’s “Cold Desert” on the stereo…it was Jamie, as young and as beautiful as I remembered the first day I met her, standing there with that old familiar disapproving yet playfully smirking scowl on her face — my last vision of her beauty, etched in my mind’s eye, before she was gone forever.
In that moment, and many times thereafter, I wondered what she might think of the man I'd become, with my failures and my inability to consistently keep on the straight and narrow mixed with my great moments of success and elation, and on this one night during one of the most testing years of my life, I felt her presence amidst the lonesome desert wind and solemn night sky.
At first, I’d felt as if I had let her down again, but this time from beyond the great divide.
My heart needed one more moment, one more brief instant where I could hear from her own familiar voice how far off from the right path I’ve been or — maybe, just maybe — how close I really am. Ten minutes is all I asked for, just to hear her remind me that this is all worth it. That this whole rat race we found together as young adults but now rang hollow with every step I took wasn’t without meaning or purpose.
And in my circling mind, her words weren’t of disappointment, but of pride. On this lonely night, she was proud of me, and I couldn’t figure out, for the life of me, why. Despite my own self-doubt, I was comforted and refined with the idea that perhaps I was doing right, that I was a man she’d be proud of so long after she’d left us.
Without a doubt, this profound moment reminded me that I was running the good race, fighting the good fight, and living the right dream. From within, I felt ready for the coming dawn.
The truth is, people who come through our lives become our DNA, they become who we are and we them. Our actions and our decisions honor their place in our lives, and their affirmation — or perceived affirmation — becomes as valuable as any currency. We share the most intimate of experiences together, and then eventually continue on our own treks through this life with or without them. Sometimes, we take those moments for granted as they happen because we always believe deep down inside that there will be more of them, and more opportunity to show our gratitude.
Sometimes, that chance never comes again.
What we’re left with in our lifetime is a memory, a still-framed picture, and a special moment that only we shared and that is etched in our soul for our entire lives — a singular moment, where the world melted away and life became about two people, sitting on a truck bed and laughing at the coming storm of adulthood.
It's these intimate yet defining moments that binds us together, as individuals and as a collective, throughout time...and like a lightning bolt flashing quickly across the electric black sky, they are gone in the blink of an eye — never to return, no matter how hard we try to emulate them. A wrinkle in time, forever lost to the unforgiving destiny that awaits us.
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