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Kate Vollrath's avatar

Catching up on your Stack this morning in bed. Which feels very Jordan-like. This one hit me in the feels! ♥️♥️♥️♥️

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Jordan Shea Page's avatar

Literally responding to your comment in bed with my coffee 😆 SO happy to hear this is my brand

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Jenny Juniper's avatar

Beautiful essay. The liminal space between hearing about the crash and not knowing yet who was on the plane was so uncomfortable and devastating. And then heartbreaking as we started to see the souls who were no longer in their earthly bodies. Reminds me of the lyrics in Hamilton, “Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?” Grateful we all have each other to hold the legacy of each other’s stories and the meaning we all have made in this life.

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Jordan Shea Page's avatar

As an aside, you making a Hamilton reference is so on brand 🫶 thank you so much for reading my friend!!

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Kelly Bunch's avatar

Beautifully written. I’ve also been thinking about familiarity being the measure of grief (though you stated it more succinctly than I did in my head). I felt so much grief from that horrible incident. I’ve wondered if would I have felt the same way if they left from Chicago (or wherever) instead of Wichita.

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Jordan Shea Page's avatar

Exactly! It literally hit closer to home. Like, would I have taken time to read every victim’s bio if they had flown out from another city? Probably not.

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Nancy Noelke's avatar

Jordan, I loved reading your essay. I've thought about this topic too throughout my life and now that I've got more life behind me than ahead of me I've come to the conclusion that life is meant to be lived, now, fully (whatever that looks like for each person). And what others say about me is their business. I took your word of the year approach and decided that my word for the year is "savor". I wrote the following poem with that word as my prompt: Ripe Now

My word for the year is savor—

as in this ripe Anjou pear,

Ripe Now

My word for the year is savor—

as in this ripe Anjou pear,

its soft red flesh

opening sweet gritty rivers

in my mouth.

I do not know when I will die.

It is none of my business.

So now, bring me figs and prosciutto,

almonds and honey, paired with Pinot.

Take my hand,

beside a luminous stream

next to the bur oak,

its branches like our own—

wide-reaching into full fall sun.

The world is always ending, isn’t it?

Maybe we are meant for now.

Taking our seat

on this warm patch of earth

as tangerine sun caps

over the western sky

and you offering me

sweet dusk in a cup.

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Jordan Shea Page's avatar

What a fantastic word of the year! And your poem is luminous, it makes me feel like I’m in a warm bath ☺️

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Jessica Barreira's avatar

Jordan . . . this is so beautiful. And just so you know, your adventurous spirit and deep love for all our furry kin would definitely be at the top of the list for what I would share about you. 😘 Your essay reminds me of one of my favorite poems: https://www.spiritualityandpractice.com/book-reviews/excerpts/view/13545/i-will-not-die-an-unlived-life It captures the essence of what a meaningful life means to me, and you've done a brilliant job of exploring and sharing that same universal quest for meaning we all experience on some level. <3

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Jordan Shea Page's avatar

I know we are friends because you share poems with me ☺️ so grateful to know you!!

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