Jason DiBassie
I have a friend, known as Jason to me, and Daarden to
some others. I met him at USF in 1992 in one of my
French Literature classes and we became instant friends.
He went to sonograms with me while I was pregnant,
cooked for me, made bread in his breadmaker for me, and
we'd sit around playing Dr. Mario on his Nintendo for
days. Literally.
Later on, Jason moved to Utah and then to San Francisco.
I flew out to see him in September of 1999 with
Gabrielle. He was a flight attendant with SouthWest, and
we'd go out to dinner and hang out when he was on a
stayover in Orlando.
Jason's mom had passed when I was pregnant with
Madeleine. He had recently taken some time off of work
to care for his mom's mom, who was dying of cancer. He
was her nurse, taking care of her 24 hours a day since
before Christmas. I'd call him on weekends, just to see
how he was doing and how Grandma was.
Jason called me on Feb. 5th to let me know his Grandma
had finally passed from the cancer. The last two weeks
she'd been in a coma-like state, and they'd feed her
liquids. Her pain relief was in the form of
Oxycontin,
which they would give her when they felt she'd need it.
I called him and spoke with him a few times after that,
the most recent being around the 11th or 12th. He seemed
in good spirit, telling me that he'd had Grandma
cremated and he'd mixed her ashes with his mom's. He and
his friend, Daren, were going to inter the ashes
themselves. He detailed his renovation plans for
Grandma's house, which he was making repairs to and
would put on the market. He was going to take the
proceeds from the sale to purchase a townhome for
himself in San Francisco. He was going to take some time
off for himself and return to work in August.
Daren knew that since Grandma's death, Jason had been
taking some of her
Oxycontin.
Wednesday night, Feb. 13th, Jason said he was having
some trouble sleeping and was going to take something.
When Daren woke up, Jason was in bed and had passed away
from an accidental overdose of the Oxycontin and his
other prescription meds. Daren tried to revive him, and
so did the paramedics. Jason didn't wake up.
I can't begin to relay how much Jason is missed.
My heart hurts so badly. I'll call his cellphone just to
hear his voice on the message. Jason was my cheerleader,
my confidante, my sounding board. I am so thankful that
I got to meet him and that he was part of my life.
|