The calendar flips to February, and I feel it in my bones before I even see the date. February 8th. A day that changed everything. It doesn’t matter how many years have passed—grief doesn’t follow the rules of time. But neither does love.
Does this sound like you? If you’ve lost someone, do you find that the days leading up to their death anniversary hit harder than the actual day itself? That’s been my reality for years. For me, it’s not just February—I feel it in April and June, too. The first six months of the year never give me much of a break.
But today, I don’t want to focus on the weight of grief before this date. I want to focus on who Jack was before this date.
Jack: A Life Well Lived
Jack was larger than life, the kind of guy who could sell ice cubes to Eskimos. He had this rare gift of bringing people together, creating a community where everyone just clicked. No drama, no gossip, no hard feelings—just genuine friendships. When I look back, I don’t remember the negativity that often surrounds us today. Maybe that’s because of Jack, or maybe it’s because the world has changed so much since he left.
When Jack passed in 2009, social media was barely a thing. And honestly? I think that’s 99% of the world’s problems now. Jack was a good old boy who wanted a simple life (with nice things, of course). He wanted the farm life, the family life, the hunting life, the working life, the kind of life where you spend Friday nights drinking beer on the patio with friends. That’s all he ever wanted.
Jack gave his all from the moment I met him. He excelled in high school (college, not so much), but he’s proof that traditional education isn’t the only path to success. After one year of college, he dropped out and took a job in the warehouse of a company called Inacom in 1991. I don’t think he realized just how much that job would shape his future, but it did. He worked his way up, surviving corporate buyouts and name changes, and eventually built his career at HP—the same company he started with in a roundabout way.
Jack made friends worldwide. After he passed, I read through his CaringBridge comments, and I was blown away. People I barely knew—people I had never even met—were sharing stories about how Jack had impacted them. I always knew Jack was special, but during and after his passing, I realized just how far his reach had extended.
The Legacy He Left Behind
Here are just a few of the words Jack’s friends wrote in his final days:
- Jack, we miss you, man. The team calls are just not the same without your quiet humor and words of wisdom. We are trying to hold the Midwest partners in good care for you, but I am reasonably confident that at this point, the whole HP work/life balance is properly tilted completely away from work—where it should be."
- "I miss our chats and grip sessions-now I have to pay a therapist"
- "Any time I've been around him, all we did was laugh"
- "As I read your post tonight, my thoughts quickly flashed to the humor, insight, and spirit that Jack so often shared-there are simply just too many great moments to count"
- "I have truly never met such a nice, considerate, jovial, and ornery person as Jack"
- "Jack was such an amazing person, someone who inspired all of those around him. it is an honor to have known him and to have been inspired by his constant positive attitude and genuine caring for others"
- "I will miss your smile, your optimism, your laughter, and how you could turn any bad day into a great one. I will miss you, friend"
- "My buddy and friend passed today. I am sure God accepted him with open arms. What we have lost...heaven has gained"
- "Our world is a better place because of your insight, humor, inspiration, and love"
- "Jack left impressions on us all, which we are all the better for"
- "His sense of humor had no limits"
- "I have never met a person who could give so much to others all the time and never ask for anything in return"
Sixteen Years Later...
Sixteen years have passed, and I still don’t take a single moment for granted. I don’t share Jack’s story for likes, comments, or sympathy—I share it because he deserves to be remembered. Because I am guided by something bigger than myself. Because if sharing Jack’s story helps even one person find peace or inspires someone to live as fully as he did, then it’s worth telling.
We miss him. His community misses him. His buddies miss him. His daughter misses him. His mom misses him.Jack is missed because he loved big and lived big. In just 37 short years, he built a life that mattered—from his farm to our boat storage business, from his work on the fire department to the friendships he poured into—Jack did it all, and he wanted it all.
And today, we also remember Gary, Jack’s dad. February 8th is his Angelversary too. He’s been gone for two years now. If you didn’t know, Gary passed away on the exact same day as his son—14 years apart. I’ve written about it before, but there’s no doubt in my mind that this was divine intervention. A reunion beyond anything we can imagine—Jack, Brooke, Garret, and so many other family members and friends waiting to welcome Gary home.
We miss Gary something fierce. He was a bull in a china shop. He loved masking tape (actually, all tape), and he could fix anything—usually by using other broken parts. He loved his family more than anything. He was a giver, a teacher, a skier, a sailor, a traveler. He was a force of nature, just like his son.
A Final Thought
As another February 8th comes and goes, I find comfort in knowing that love and legacy never fade. Jack and Gary were the kind of men who lived fully, loved deeply, and left their mark on everyone they met. Their stories continue through us—in the memories we share, the lessons they taught, and the love that still lingers.
So, if there’s one thing I hope you take away from this today, it’s this:
Love big. Live big. And never take a single moment for granted.