I’ve just come back from a memorial service for a past teammate and friend. It was a wonderful evening of celebrations and memories, reuniting with old friends and familiar faces from the past. And it was also one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

I had been asked to say a few words in memory of a friend. I knew from the get-go that there was no way I’d be able to speak on the spot, so I had prepared a little speech ahead of time. Writing this speech was not easy. It took a long time to write it without getting lost in my thoughts, and then re-reading it once or twice was equally hard — I wasn’t actually able to do it for the first two tries.

Listening to the speakers ahead of me was a challenge in and of itself. Hearing people talk about someone who was a close teammate and friend brings up all sorts of emotions. You remember the good times, you remember the struggles, but most of all you remember the person and everything he was.

When it was my turn to speak, I did my best to not choke up. But barely a sentence in, and I was already struggling. I managed to make it through, heading a little off the written speech here and there, and against a feeling of being somewhat overwhelmed with it all, I finished my last few words.

Right after, I thought maybe I was a little too serious and sombre. The folks ahead of me were able to find the light side of our friend’s life, and make the jokes that reminded us of why we loved him. After I walked off the stage, I felt like I was a downer.

When I returned to my spot in the crowd, my buddies all patted me on the back, on the shoulder and said “good work”. And while I don’t doubt their sincerity, I know that I would have said the same thing to any other friend of mine. Yet a part of me was still unsure about how my thoughts carried through to everyone else.

Then a lady tapped me on the shoulder, sat down beside me and said thank you. She was thanking me for sharing feelings that were sincere and honest, and that touched on what she felt needed to be said. She talked a little about what she was feeling herself, and as brief as it was, we shared a moment.

This moment was an incredible relief and I was very thankful for her to have said what she did. Other people came up to me later in the night to give their thanks as well or to give me a pat on the shoulders to say good job. All of this was a relief. And as much as anything else anyone said that night, that first “thank you” made me appreciate what this night was all about.

This memorial service for our friend was as much about him, as it was about sharing the experience of life with others. The night was there to remember a friend, and it was also meant to help the rest of us still left here to find new meaning and purpose with life as we live it.

Our friend was someone we will always cherish and never forget. He was the supreme teammate who players rallied around. He was a leader who showed conviction and respect. He played with a burning fire inside of him and shared his passion with those around him. And in all his intensity and competitiveness, JK was above all else someone who you could count on to be there backing you up, pushing you, and lifting you up higher to give you that extra boost you needed to be the best you could be.

We’ll miss you JK. XX.