Goodbye, Jeff Anderson

This is, by far, the most difficult thing I've ever written. Jeff Anderson, our production manager and night jock, did not recover from his complications after open heart surgery. Jeff went into the hospital for what was supposed to be a preventative surgery, and was scheduled for a 6-week recovery time until he came back to work. The last day Jeff worked, he insisted I hug him goodbye, which I protested. I didn't want to say goodbye because I knew I would see him again, and didn't want to even hint that I wouldn't. How much I wish now I would have given him that hug. 

Most people who didn't have the pleasure of knowing Jeff beyond his work on-air, probably saw him as a jokester. The smart, laid back, comical guy always down to grab a drink and shoot the breeze, especially if the topic of discussion was music or his Kansas City Chiefs. =) But there was much more behind that intelligent, sarcastic demeanor. 

If Jeff were here now, he'd be irritated at me for bringing attention to his greatness. Truly. Because his generosity came with no strings attached. No want for fame or recognition. Ever. But I believe he was a rare kind of person, and that should be celebrated. 

Jeff had a regal kind of separation from anything petty. He never complained when people in the building dumped loads of work on him. He never retaliated when someone wronged him. And he listened every single time I walked into that production studio to complain about my life. Jeff didn't need this job. He did it because he loved the work, and more so because he loved his work family. And even when we told him he wasn't going to want to come back here after his surgery, he said he would for one reason above all else: he wasn't going to leave us hanging without someone to replace him.  

Obvious response. Nobody could replace him. Jeff was your big brother. He was the guy who made you feel protected. Not because of his size, but because the size of his heart. 

It's true that Jeff was fun, smart, sarcastic, and playful. We had a lot of fun at work and on the occasional trip to Mesquite to play Bunco (we didn't know what it was when we signed up, but Jeff was always down for an adventure). But when you needed him, he was always there. He listened, endlessly sometimes, when I needed to talk. I had to have cried on his shoulder about the same thing at least a hundred times, and never once did he get irritated about it. He brought pizza to my house when my heart was broken and I just didn't have it in me to cook for Z. He helped me load a table across town that I'd bought off Craigslist, because he didn't want me to go alone. He gave me an Amazon gift card for Christmas last year, and got stern with me when I said I was only going to spend it on essentials. "Buy something just for you. Something you don't need. You deserve that." This is who Jeff was. Generous in so many ways, and never once did he ask for anything back. Not once. 

Jeff was a rock. For his family, his girlfriend, anyone who needed him. He was very protective of everyone he cared about. To say that he will be missed is not nearly enough. I believe every single person who knew him well will forever feel the void in their heart by his passing.  

Jeff wasn't ready to go. He talked often of traveling after he retired. He loved live music so much and so deeply missed the concerts when they stopped happening. He loved his Chiefs. He found joy in everything he did. And he brought peace to everyone who was lucky enough to spend time with him. Instead of feeling injustice for his death, I believe Jeff would want us to learn from it. To remember not to waste energy on the little things. And not to take for granted that we have time to do the things in life that matter.

We love you, Jeff, as a brother and a dear friend. You will forever be in my heart and on my mind. And I will try to remember your words of encouragement whenever I start to doubt myself. Thank you. Forever, thank you. For the impact you've made on so many lives. 

We will all see each other again, at that big concert in the sky. Save us a seat. Sleep now in peace, dear friend. And go Chiefs. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And now, as Jeff would say, no more sad stuff! So here's a laugh for you. Just one of the many videos and photos I found this week. A little glimpse of the fun Jeff brought around here. The smiles he left on our faces will never fade. Enjoy. - Wendy