For Jerome

Thank you for your wonderful words following my last post. And, of course, for your magical-through-the-ether hugs.

I’ve struggled to write today’s post. At first, I followed my modus operandi of using language and imagery to avoid being specific. I wrote about how my chest feels heavy and numb at the same time, and how my throat feels like I can’t swallow.

I made a joke about how, clearly, I can swallow because I ate six Turkish Delight-flavoured Tim Tams in the space of ninety minutes last night. Then I deleted that paragraph too, because in truth I can’t even tell you what the biscuits tasted like. It just helped to focus on the sugar rush for a while.

I wrote and I deleted and I wrote and I deleted.

And then I found that all I could write, and keep, were the straight-true words within me.

Clarinet Connections at the National MuseumMy friend Jerome passed away this week, and while I know that the world isn’t fair, it shouldn’t be allowed to be this unfair. Jerome was 26. He was hilarious, kind, a brilliant musician, gorgeous, adventurous, braver than anyone should need to be, and not only someone I was proud to call my friend, but the first boy I ever had a crush on. And oh! what a crush it was. Five of my teenage years were devoted to anticipating Friday night rehearsals with Jerome, and the half-time breaks that involved making cups of tea with at least six spoonfuls of sugar stirred in, joking and laughing with him, his fabulous sister, and the other members of our ensemble.

I’m so grateful for the time I was able to spend with Jerome over the past few years. The hours spent sipping lemongrass tea, laughing, then talking intensely and passionately about social and food ethics, travel, love, anxieties and joys, shared memories, and what the next move was to be in fighting the cancer.

Hey Jerome, do you remember the time I arrived at the National Museum for our ensemble’s performance, and how I’d come straight from my work Christmas lunch where I’d had a little bit of beer? (Non-alcoholic beer, yes, ahem, because I was not quite 18.) Do you remember how you kept picking me up and spinning me around, and how you and your sister had to convince me that now was not a good time to play hide-and-seek? Do you remember how I disappeared, and how you found me scrunched up in the cupboard under the sink, because I’d decided we were going to play anyway? And how we laughed so much we ran out of breath?

Do you remember the phone calls we had back before we owned mobile phones? I remember getting in trouble from my dad for talking too long and tying up the landline.

I remember being at your engagement party last year, feeling utterly elated by your glowing happiness as you stood side-by-side with your gorgeous, effervescent fiancée, now wife. I remember when you both thwacked at the incredible gingerbread Sydney Opera House you’d made together with your families. I remember eating that gingerbread.

I remember your smile, Jerome.

I’ll miss you.

108 thoughts on “For Jerome

  1. *big big big hugs* I’m so feeling you right now, Hannah. It just really, really, REALLY sucks. I’m sorry that your life is now one less Jerome and I wish healing to come wending through your heart as the days go by. *more big hugs*

    • Thank you Victoria. He truly was an amazing person – and an amazing rock climber, I’m sure he’d want me to say! :)

  2. *hug*… I shuddered a little at how personal and real this post felt. Sorry you lost a good friend. Life cantake such unexpected turns, even at such a young age.

  3. Dear Hannah,
    I’m a German married to an Aussie. We live with our two children in Madison, Wisconsin, USA. My husband’s family lives in Melbourne. A couple of weeks ago I found your page while looking for a recipe for vegan marzipan. I got hooked on the marzipan and your page.
    For days I wanted to write to you to tell you how much I enjoy your blogs and your recipes. When I read your last entry I was very puzzled. I could feel that you are sad, but I had no context for your pain. I’m very sorry that you lost your friend. It is unfair. I cannot say anything comforting. And why should I. I’m a complete stranger to you. But something of your straight forward writing touched me. And since you brightened and sweetened my days with your recipes and blogs, I want to say something more than I’m sorry. If this image: From now on you will walk with a hole in your heart. The human heart is amazing. It can beat on with many holes in it. Mine does. With every beat I feel a little bit of pain, sometimes more intense, sometimes dulled. The hole was very painful in the beginning. But then I got used to it. I made peace with it like I made peace with the fact that I need reading glasses now. More holes came. Still beating on. If you will have to walk with a hole in your heart, my guess is that through this hole your friend Jerome will be looking in your life. He will be always there. But it is not fair.
    Thank you so much for your wonderful writing and your recipes! I’m very grateful that I found your page.
    Elisabeth

    • Dear Elisabeth,
      Words cannot express how touched I am by your words, and how grateful I am that you took the time to write. Your honesty and the beautiful way you described how we all must live with losses and pain throughout our lives is (truly) comforting, for there is nothing we can do with this type of unfairness but bite our lips and go on, never forgetting, but trying to be strong. I am sorry that you, too, have such holes in your heart.

      In truth, through deciding to write today, you are no longer a stranger, and I am very glad for that. And I am overwhelmed, and again grateful, for your kind, kind words about my writing. Thank you for your comment, Elisabeth. I’ll try to create a few more vegan desserts for you soon. :) xo

      • …not being a stranger anymore….that’s like being given a diamond. I’m usually not interested in blogs. It is your openness, your joy in what the world is giving to you and the way how you express this that made me like your writing. I think you have a wonderful gift, and you generously share it.
        — I just made a fresh batch of marzipan for a friend of ours who had a minor surgery. (The vegan part is appreciated because dairy and eggs trigger my daughter’s asthma. )
        — May all seeds that Jerome planted by touching other people’s lives grow!
        Thank you for your reply. It made my day special!
        E.

        • And you, too, for your reply, Elisabeth. I doubt you could know how much you have brightened my day, both for your understanding and the words that bolster within me the quiet, hiding dream/desire of somehow making writing a bigger part of my life/career. Thank you. I look forward to chatting with you more in future. xo

  4. Hannah, I’m so so sorry. I am typing this with tears, I can feel the love you have
    for Jerome through your words. I really am so sorry. Much love to you, and of course all of Jerome’s friends and family xxx

  5. What an incredible loss. That is so sad. Jerome was just too young. That is incredibly cruel. I’m so sorry you have lost someone so special. What a difficult time for you his sister, his fiancee and all his family and friends. xx

    • Thank you so much for your kindness. I can’t even begin to comprehend what his sister, parents, and wife (they married a month ago) are going through. My heart hurts so much for them. So thank you.

  6. Heya darling, I’m so so sorry to hear about Jerome. He sounds like he was a wonderful person and if he managed to capture your heart in such a wonderful way then I know he was even more special.

    Much love and tight-hugs to you and his loved ones…

    *Hugs*

  7. Aw Hannah, I’m so sorry to hear about your friend. What a terrible thing to go through. Keep your chin up and your face full of Timtams, if that helps. And breathing and hugging and chocolate and animals and nature and sad movies and books. That’s what works for me when I’m grieving, anyways. I hope you remember the best things about Jerome and the pain dulls quickly for you.

    • Even writing this, and mentioning just a few of my golden memories, helped to ease the hurt for a moment. (Far more than those stupid Tim Tams did, I promise you…) Thank you so much for your wonderful comment and advice. I think I’m going to find a book and a teddy bear (alas, no animals allowed here) right after this. xo

  8. I’m so sorry to hear about the loss of your special friend Hannah. Sometimes life doesn’t seem fair. You are a richer person from having been Jerome’s friend and will (I reckon) continue to draw inspiration from having known and loved him and shared so many fun times together.

  9. Hannah, my heart goes out to you, and all of Jerome’s loved ones. Your beautiful rse is a lovely tribute – moving and heartfelt. You’ve got me welling up over here. Big, big hugs!

  10. I’m so sorry this happened. It sounds like a wonderful friendship, though, and this post was touching to read. We should all aspire to leave our friends with such beautiful memories, should the unthinkable happen.

  11. Life can be so unfair. Although I don’t know you, the beauty of your writing and tastiness of your treats amazes me. I am so sorry for the loss of you and your family. It is truly amazing that you can see the wonder in life at such a dark time: hold on to those magical memories x

    • Lisa, thank you for your incredibly kind and generous comment. I’m a bit overwhelmed, and very grateful. Thank you.

  12. I’m so sorry to hear that. Your last post just transmitted that something was seriously wrong.
    You wrote a wonderful post for the world (and us) to get to know a little bit the Jerome you are missing.

    • Silvia – thank you. I’m so grateful that my post conveyed a little of how wonderful Jerome was. In truth, I originally wasn’t going to go beyond the last post, but it felt like lying to write flippantly of other things here, so soon afterwards.

  13. So sorry to hear of your loss – am glad you had the opportunity to spend time with him especially recently but agree that life is horribly unfair! He sounds like a great friend. Warm wishes to you and to his family.

  14. Oh Hannah, I’m so sorry. I lost one of my closest friends in a car accident two years ago and it was nearly a year and a half before I could go an entire day without thinking about her for even a split second. I remember feeling hotly ashamed and embarrassed when I realized that I hadn’t thought about her the day before. It seemed that it was my job to remember her and I had failed at it. Of course I’ve forgiven myself for that by now, and instead when something reminds me of her I get really happy that I’ve been given a wonderful moment to remember my friend. You’ll get there with Jerome, where thinking of him brings you more joy than sadness, where his memory becomes a highlight rather than a shadow. All that separates you from that wonderful feeling is time.

    • Dear Alayna, thank you so much for this truly comforting, and wise (are you secretly an owl?) comment. I am so sorry that you, too, have had to experience this kind of loss. Here’s to remembering with joy those who’ve touched our lives and made them better. xo

  15. Oh the hugs I wish I could give you right now! Jerome sounds like the most wonderful friend and I am truly sorry for your loss. Your tribute to him was beautifully written – I think we all felt like we caught a glimpse of this incredible being :)

    • Thank you Helen, that means ever so much. I could’ve written for days about my memories and his wonderfulness, so I’m glad this glimpse did convey a little of him. And you’ve been such incredible support lately – so hugs back to you, too. xo

  16. Dear Hannah,
    It’s okay to delete, it’s okay to find other things to talk about, it’s okay to say nothing, it’s okay to let the tears fall into your plate. These are the unfair things. The huge unfair things that should not happen but do. Sending you big big hugs from afar.
    Xxxcatherine

  17. Hannah…I am so sorry that you’ve had to go through this. & the pain that jerome’s wife must be in right now. & his family. All of you who loved him. It’s just awful. So unfair. He sounds like a wonderful man who brought much joy to others. F***k. Thinking of you all. Love.
    Heidi xo

    • Thank you, Heidi. I can’t even begin to comprehend how his family and wife are feeling; I only hope that knowing how much Jerome meant to so many people helps in some way. And thank you so much for your text. You are lightness xoxo

  18. Oh darling, I am so very sorry. I read your comment on my blog and inhaled with such force that I nearly choked. Now I understand your last few posts / comments / status updates. I’m glad you are able to remember the good things and the good times. I hope the funeral can be a celebration of his life as well as a noting of the loss. Life is so unfair and sometimes so very hard to understand xox

    • Oh dear me, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to shock/scare you with my comment. Please forgive me! Thank you so much for your kind words. I am sure the funeral will celebrate the incredible joy Jerome brought to so many people – it’s just… I wish it could have taken place seventy years down the track. xo

  19. Oh, dear Hannah. I’m so very sorry to hear about your loss. Jerome sounds like an amazing person who was obviously very loved by many. Your tribute was amazing and so powerful that it clearly touched me and obviously quite a number of your friends and readers. I know it’s not an easy time for you at the moment but I know that you’re a strong person so chin up :) xoxo

    • Thank you Libby. I’m so grateful that this piece was able to show a bit of how wonderful Jerome was. Thank you for taking the time to write. xo

  20. Oh goodness Hannah~thanks for sharing such a beautiful and heart felt post~! I can somewhat understand your pain as I’ve been empathizing for the family of a member at our church who passed away this week….the funeral was yesterday, and I can see how painful death is no matter what. I just hope you and Jerome’s family can find comfort in God’s love, and keep your chin up and don’t give up! I’m sure Jerome made such a great impact in people’s lives, and that testament alone is so beautiful to those involved in his life! We (bloggers) love ya and are here for ya! Hope you don’t mind my sharing about the death of the church member. I just thought it would be somewhat comforting to know that you are understood. <33

    • Thank you, Ellie, for sharing, and I am truly sorry for your loss too. We do all have to go through this at different times in our lives, and it is comforting to be reminded that we can lean on each other for support. Thank you for your thoughtful words.

  21. I am so sorry to read this my dear. How cruel life can be sometimes. But I’m glad u have so many lovely memories. BIG hugs xoxoxoxo

  22. Hannah, like everyone who has commented, I am very sorry for your loss, and also, for the terrible sadness and loss all of the family and friends of this young man will be feeling. I also feel very truly sad for the community and the world, to have lost a young man who it sounds like he was one of life’s good ones, the kind of person we need on this earth. It’s not fair, but loss is indeed a significant part of life, and one we must experience and learn and grow from. The only thing I can say of any sort of comfort, I think the loss of your friend, who sounds so special, should remind every single one of us to live every single day to the best of our ability, to make the most of our lives, in honour of people like your friend Jerome. We owe it to him and all those like him.

    • Thank you for this wonderful and considered comment; the world truly did lose a courageous, kind, and incredible man when it let Jerome go. And oh yes, oh yes, to trying to live life as best we can in the absence and honour of those who are gone. xoxo

  23. Hannah,
    For months now, I have often been overcome by despair when I’ve thought of the insufficiency of memory. I’d been dreading the moment when mine and Jerome’s memories together would become just my own.
    I have been realizing that holding on to things he’s said to me and the things we’ve experienced have become such precious treasures that I may choose to keep to myself or share with others. But most importantly, all of these tokens stem from the greater truth of who he was. For this reason, I take great comfort in your memories Hannah, and I hope that you do mine. I look forward to seeing you on Tuesday.
    - His adoring wife, Amelia

    • Dear Amelia,
      Thank you so much for taking the time to comment. I deeply, deeply hoped that if you and Jerome’s family did ever read this post of mine, that it would be a testament to the incredible person that he was, and the strength, courage, and joy in life that you helped him embody.
      I am beyond grateful that he had you, Amelia, and that you had him, and so beyond-words sorry for your loss. I look forward to hearing/talking more of all of our Jerome-memories, and knowing that you have a wealth of secret moments with him that can give you strength and, eventually, comfort.
      Much love,
      Hannah

  24. *LOTS AND LOTS OF HUGS* Hannah! I’m so sorry for your loss :( Without knowing Jerome personally, I’m sure he was a great person. I still remember that first guy I had a crush on and until today he has a special place in my heart.

    Hope you’re feeling much better now and if you ever need to talk you know where to find me ~
    xoxo

  25. Hannah, I really am sorry for your loss. Death of a friend or family member is never easy but I do applaud, respect and appreciate you for sharing your life stories with us on this blog. Really do hope his family is doing well. Am sure you were nothing but a great friend to Jerome and never failed to brighten up his days. Supporting you always…

  26. Oh Hannah, there are no words, I’m so sorry for your loss. Your shared memories and recollection of him are beautiful, and I’m sure the world will feel his loss. I hope you and his family are doing okay. Internet hugs. x

  27. Dearest darling Hannah sweetness,

    xo xo xo. Can I love someone I’ve never met? Possibly not, but I can indeed love your writing (and you know I do, even when, or perhaps especially when, it is serious and heartfelt). Hence, I will sign off with -

    Love,
    emma

    • I think you/we can, at least insofar as we can experience and share genuine happiness, support, comfort, and sorrow. Your words mean so very, very much. xo

  28. Oh gosh, so sorry to hear Hannah *hugs* A life lost too young :(

    Hope you’re doing ok. I’m glad to see that through the sadness you can still re-live the happy memories and I’m sure Jerome is doing the same xx

    • Thank you April. It feels unbearable at times, particularly when thinking of his family and wife, but I’m doing my best to honour him with smiles.

    • Thank you lovely. His funeral was today, and the sorrow is taking over, but I’m fighting to remember the many good moments. xo

    • Thank you darling. In truth, the lateness is fortuitous, for his funeral was today and hugs are deeply, deeply needed right now to stop everything around me feeling wobbly. xo

  29. Oh Hannah … *hugs*

    I’m sure your friend is smiling down at you now. My mom once said that the ones he loves the most God calls back first, but I don’t know if this provides any comfort in this situation. I’m just thinking of you and wishing your friend is happy wherever he is now.

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