Today is 11 months. I count still, I cannot help myself. So many things have happened, have gone on, have changed in this world, all of them in your absence.

The foundation is starting to crawl and grow, people have given donations and bought car decals and t-shirts and we have already had requests for assistance. I am educating myself on ways to make a difference to kids in any way that I can. I am teaching a Junior Achievement course to middle schoolers, I am getting involved in the Hope Center and working with people who are trying to rebuild themselves, I am offering a smile to everyone, but especially those who really look like they could use one and I am trying to breathe deeply when people frustrate me and think before I speak. All of those years that mom and I spent telling you to count to ten before you took any action. HaHa! At the end of the day I find myself wanting to do things to make you proud of me, like you spent so many years trying to make me proud of you. I am proud of you son!

We have spent many months trying to find joy and struggle through the “firsts”…. A “first” holiday without you, “first” birthdays without you, “first” vacations without you, life without you. Somewhere along the way, for the whole family, our thought process has shifted to the “lasts” with you. It is an odd transformation. We went to Destin last week to play softball and spend some time in the sun. It was the “last” vacation we took with you. We ate at What-A-Burger, of course, and we talked about the “last” time you ate there with us. We took a walk on the beach with Uncle Mike and Aunt Lez and we talked about it being the “last” time you saw the ocean. We took some of your ashes with us and left them at that spot (30° 23’ 35.538 N, 86° 35’ 28.608 W) where you had so much fun with Mason and Chris and Ethan. Obviously, that brought tears, but also so much joy knowing the week you had had. Again a “last”.

We are quickly approaching a year without you and that seems unimaginable. I want to spend each day striving to make someone’s life better, in some little way. I think that would make you proud. I am thankful for those opportunities, partly because they make me feel good, but mainly because I do them with a great purpose, making you proud of your old man. I wonder constantly if you see us, the way we act, the things we do. Aah, one of the mysteries of Faith in God.

I will continue to trust in God, because as painful as this life is without you, I can only get back to you through Him! I will strive to live each day with joy because I have a purpose here and it brings me a day closer to my eternal life. I know that He is with me always and especially on the days I need Him most like today.

Your mom and I laugh about all of the times that we would ask where you had been or what you had done, how often your response was, we just went on an “adventure.” When I talk to your friends they will often tell me a story with the line; I remember this one time when Jack and I were on this “adventure”…… You lived and loved so much in your short life. We have decided that we will continue to take you on our “adventures” so get ready to visit more places and I will continue to use this forum to write about the kid who inspires me to do better and make him proud! I love you son and I miss you every moment. #loveBIG #noonelovedharder

During my work day, the phone rang and the screen flashed one of my favorite peeps name and so, work can wait…what’s up my friend? It is very rare that I get a call from said friend during the day as she is a teacher. What followed knocked me to my knees.  You see my friend’s daughter had placed an SOS call to her mom at work because said daughters’ phone rang and her screen flashed Jack Paris as the caller.  Now my initial, irrational thought, was…why didn’t he call me? Crazy right? So after weaving the pieces together, the best we can determine is that his old number (ATT assured me they burned the number permanently) is somehow on a telemarketer randomize list and in a freak incident dialed the child of one of our dearest friends.  I’m a little jealous that she got the call.  It got me thinking…what would I tell my boy if he randomly called to check it?

 

“I LOVE YOU SON!! You were an amazing son and we are so proud of you. We are fine, but we sure miss you.  Thank you for being the hands and feet of Christ when you walked on this earth and opening our eyes and heart so we can go #loveBIG.  We started this foundation in your honor, but all you need to know is that we are going to be difference makers like you! ”

[rēfrā′ming]

changing the conceptual and/or emotional viewpoint in relation to which a situation is experienced and placing it in a different frame that fits the “facts” of a concrete situation equally well, thereby changing its entire meaning.

We know to our core that we must reframe this loss: the loss of our child…loss of a brother…loss of a nephew…loss of a grandchild…loss of a friend… loss of a student…loss of a friend…loss of a difference maker. We have done our best to reframe our counting, but we must stretch beyond that to fill this incredible void. We can’t continue to wallow in this tragedy as we know that is not what Jack Paris would want.  We know better, but flounder to determine what to do with our energy and love.  Our What If’s begin to take over our thoughts. What If we could honor Jack by following his example of showing up for people? What if we could somehow share the money and time he was willing to share? It sounds so big to us…a foundation is what this is called according to the community leaders that understand our inquiries. Too intimidating, we need time to work through this grief, so the idea goes in a box for another day.  As we put one foot in front of another, we are approached by others that knew Jack and are trying to love us through this and they bring forth this foundation idea. We acknowledge, say we have thought about it, put it back in the box.  Then smack, three different people- unknown to each other- reach out in the same week, literally unboxing this foundation idea. This loss is reframed and the #loveBIG Foundation is born.

February  13^th – nine months.  We count the family events you miss, the weekends we aren’t traveling together, the holidays, the firsts you never saw, the news we never shared with you, the hugs that hang in the air… and the list goes on. We count. We will never stop counting.  In an effort to honor what we think would be your wishes to move forward and find joy, we reframed our counting early in our grief.  We counted 13 things we are thankful for on the 13^th of each month, the date of your death that pounds us in the face every month. We counted 13 pictures of you living to the fullest and posted those on the 13^th of each month. We counted 13 acts of kindness at Christmas in your honor.  Reframing helped, but the void is still there. As we searched to fill the void, we kept circling back to the stories of you sharing yourself with others. Counting those stories helped us find our joy. Frankly, it brought some guilt too as we could trace the timing of the stories to instances where we were so frustrated with you.  We saw that you were late for obligations because you were just talking with a friend- couldn’t you catch up with them tomorrow? Little did we know that talking them into continuing to live this life could not be put off because we were going to be late. You were out of gas when we had just filled your tank- where was all your gas going? We know now that you were granting rides to work, home, and school to those that did not have a car or family to step up.  Sure, there were times where you were rebelling and not doing what we asked for no good reason other than being 18. You made mistakes…broke rules… but now we count beyond the mess ups and count the times you showed up.  We started asking …what if? What if we tried to show up every day in your honor instead of just on the 13^th? What if we could make a point to relate to those that you met eye to eye to hear and support without judging on their living accommodations, clothes, or grammar.     What if we could continue to help those that you helped without a blink of the eye?  What if …

Monday afternoon. I really wanted my hair colored before you arrived. I couldn’t fathom bad roots showing in the birth pictures. I didn’t have to worry. You see I didn’t get pictures because you were in so big a hurry the camera was still in the car! You arrived like a cork screw football pass at 6:25. The doctor said he had never seen it. What an entry into the world! You never stopped being in a hurry. The first years were a test.  How much crying could I take and how fast could you accomplish the physical goals of walking, running, jumping, and generally taking risks. You couldn’t be contained by a seat, a carpet square, or a bed. Soon we were faced with the ADHD and ODD diagnosis- we were certain you would be the next Michael Phelps or Steve Jobs. They fought these “labels” and persevered. Through elementary school you fooled us all by “reading” your way to AR reward after AR reward… how smart you were to make it to 7^th grade before we had any idea you were dyslexic and challenged by learning processing disorders.  You couldn’t get those points/rewards by reading so you were using your other resources- pictures, common sense fitting into the story- survival instinct. Now you have these labels and we still need you to fit into a box for the school district and …well, what society says you should be and do.  But you don’t fit. You know it. You start looking to fit…which again challenges us. Sneaking out of the house, rule breaking, driving fast, stealing, lying …we pushed you to be part of something- a team, a group and then you wouldn’t feel different. Silly us, the team- the group…they broke the rules too and you followed. All we could see was the rule breaking, the jogger pants, the music full of cuss words and lude behavior… what do we do to make you fit in the box? Months of therapy and advice- hard work by you and us…compromises on both sides. Military school, you might want to join the military so why not? The regimen and accountability are good for you so, yes, the military is good. But…once again, your ADHD prevents that life choice. You see this as the military not wanting you either. 18. High School complete. We are learning to live together and figure this out… and then a curve in the road- literally. Now we see… you created a new box. You helped so many fit in this flexible box of yours. The ones that have shared that you talked them into living, or not cutting, or not running way. You smiled and spoke when nobody else did that day. It didn’t matter that the person you smiled and spoke too wasn’t wearing the right clothes, listening to the right music, or fitting in the rigid box. Now we find the marked Bible. The notes of verses- Job…Deuteronomy…Isaiah- in your barely legible script. You lived a full life in your 18 years here with us- social battles, emotional battles, academic battles…driving fast, taking risks, loving hard.  You messed up, you challenged, you wore us out. Now we see… you loved unconditionally. You shared money you didn’t have. You gave time. You listened. You did so much right. You are teaching me lessons 8 months after that wicked curve took your life and so today I celebrate your birth.

Jack Paris- 01/18/1999-05/13/2017
#loveBIG
#noonelovedharder

Jack graduated from this earth on May 13th, 2017. His family will always treasure the young platinum blonde haired boy whose infectious energy and smile changed the lives of everyone he knew.

For Jack, a young man who preferred movement and activity, school was something that had to be endured in order to achieve his goals. Jack spent a lot of time working later in high school to get the credits needed to finish. He completed that task ahead of schedule in March of 2017 and for two months had been working for friends on a farm. He loved his job, being outside and working with his hands. Jack and his family were excited knowing that he had accomplished the coursework required to receive his diploma from Woodford County on Saturday, May 27th 2017. His goal was completed and his family is so proud.

While in school, Jack tried his hand at multiple activities including: Lacrosse, Golf, Baseball, Football, Drums, Guitar, Musical Composition, Archery, Civil Air Patrol, MMA, and anything to do with cars. No one activity became his passion, because to Jack it wasn’t about what he was doing; it was about the people who surrounded him. Above all else, Jack had a passion for people, being a friend to anyone regardless of their background, and being there for those in need. He also had a devotion to a McDonalds #2 with a large Coke, and no matter where he went; he was always ready for a cheeseburger.

Ultimately, Jack wanted to spend his future doing what he did best, serving others. When asked about his goals Jack would say that one day he planned to be an EMT, or Firefighter, or a soldier. Whatever he could do to make a difference and help people. Mostly he looked forward to having a wonderful wife, kids and a home of his own.

All of those who became Jacks friends and family knew him to be a constant and ferocious defender. In the words of his little sister Olivia, he always made her feel safe and she will remember him as her protector. Jack had the biggest heart, and the largest desire to love others no matter who they were or where they came from.

Jack lived life to the fullest and had a lot of wonderful adventures for an 18-year-old boy. As busy and fast moving as he was, Jack always made sure that his family knew how he felt about them. He was always quick to offer a hug, a smile and an “I love you”!

Following Jack’s death his family discovered the true extent of Jack’s life, helping those who could not help themselves, giving of his time and money, providing a place to sleep for friends who needed it, and generally affecting others with his smile, laugh and goodhearted nature.