When I left Greenwich High School in 2004 to teach at Weston High, it was both scary and exciting. Change, as I am going through right now, with this massive relocation, always scary. I had to meet new people in an environment that I knew nothing about. There were some people that immediately made you feel at home and continued to make a very fun job even more fun. It was always about making connections with the kids and over the years there were a number of solid connections. Jimmy Sanzone was at the top of that list. His smile lit up the room his laugh was contagious. When I retired from WHS in 2012, he kidded with me as I was leaving that both he and I were graduating in the same year.

A couple of years after I left WHS he reached out via social media and asked if I’d be interested meeting up with both he and Eric Weeks (another great young man), I immediately said yes, and about a week or two later we met at a Starbucks and shared stories and laughter. Somewhere I have a picture of the three of us, me about 1/2 foot shorter than both of them, in the middle, me, before my bariatric surgery, close to 400 lbs. I have tried to find it on various places and can’t seem to at the moment.

We parted ways and agreed to repeat the meet up. We stayed in touch periodically on social media, though not a lot.

Yesterday, while I was home alone scrolling through various posts, Jimmy was tagged in a few and my first thought was “damn it, I missed wishing him a happy birthday” as I figured that was the point of the posts. Then I read the posts and after one or two it became clear why there were so many. Jimmy suddenly, and inexplicably, passed away. That’s all I know at this writing.

The sadness of someone so incredibly full of life to suddenly be gone lowered a shade of sadness that I am just now beginning to lift up. We were not close, but we were friends. It is not my loss, it is the universe’s loss and his family’s loss. And it is just another reminder that we are promised nothing, not another day, not another minute. Carpe Diem folks…a hard lesson but one that I think Jimmy would be happy to remind you of.

I’ll finish with the lyrics that came to mind when I finished reading, courtesy of Beth Nielsen Chapman:

“All alone, I didn’t like the feeling
All alone, I sat and cried
All alone, I had to find some meaning
In the center of the pain I felt inside”

Rest well, Jimmy Sanzone, the world is a much darker place today!