By Nina Gillette, mother-in-law

Jared died one month ago today and my heart is incredibly heavy thinking of how much we have lost. In an attempt to remember the good things instead of being overwhelmed by the pain I am going to write just a few of the many memories I have of him.

Christmas stockings. At our house they always contain a projectile of some sort. One year it was attack launchers that shot rigid foam disks across the room. You could always tell if you were being targeted because the launch mode was accompanied by a really annoying rat-a-tat-tat-tat noise. Well, suddenly we were being shot at with no warning at all. Jared had rewired his launcher to silence the noise and was using it as a stealth attack weapon. Pretty good aim, too!

Hugs. Jared gave really good hugs. Firm. Honest. Like he meant them.

Fire building. One year the sons-in-law got flint fire starters in their stockings. Jared and Dave took theirs to the back porch and had an impromptu race to see who could get a fire going first. Dave was quick, Jared was slow and methodical. So who wins, the one whose fire lights up first or the one whose fire stays lit?! We all laughed a lot.

That’s how it was: we laughed, Jared chuckled. We loved him.