Remembering Jim Today
Jim had an extraordinary combination of kindness, sensitivity, and strength—a true 'man's man' during our outings, yet never unkind or unfair. He had a wickedly sharp sense of humor, reserved for those close to him, shared over drinks at his favorite pub or during relaxed evenings. He could turn a simple hangout into unforgettable memories, whether enduring the famously uncomfortable seats at Massey Hall enjoying an amazing concert together or savoring the unforgettable experience of seeing B.B. King at George's Spaghetti House.
Jim had a gift for understanding and engaging people, effortlessly recalling obscure songs—like that time he quickly found "Invitation to the Blues" by Tom Waits from his extensive tape collection, just from my vague description. His ability to inspire was evident in his professional life as well. As a respected manager at a major newspaper, Jim wasn't merely a boss but a leader who motivated through trust and genuine care, consistently guiding his team to excellence. Jim did not hang his hat on that because his life was so much more.
Though warm-hearted and forgiving, Jim had clear boundaries. Rarely did someone find themselves on his bad side—but once they did, it was definitive, a line drawn in response to dishonesty or betrayal. He was amazingly easy-going, but he absolutely knew how to draw a boundary. He was not shy.
Losing Jim was truly heartbreaking, and family gatherings never regained their original warmth and laughter after his passing. His perennial vest, love for classic fifties stuff (like old timey Cadillacs), and playful pins (Help the Police. Beat Yourself Up) remain symbolic of his distinctive personality. Still, whenever I'm uncertain about life's interactions, I ask myself, "What would Jim do?" His thoughtful wisdom continues to guide me. Jim remains deeply missed, fondly remembered, and forever cherished.
Comments