Dear friends. It is with great sadness that I must tell you that James Munro Leaf passed away on Wednesday, December 20th, 2017, on the eve of the winter solstice under a crisp starry night sky in Niagara Falls, Ontario. He was 32.
I was with him until the bitter end, and I have never met a person who showed so much courage and tenacity in the face of excruciating pain and debilitating illness. He was at the same time the most tender and most ferociously resilient man I ever knew, and he was my friend, enduring and loyal, carrying me faithfully through the trials of the past ten years and opening my eyes to the beauty of the world. I will miss him dearly. But he will always be a part of me, and I will carry him in my heart, as I know many of you here will as well.
The daytime funeral service and wake is planned for December 30th, 2017 in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Please feel free to reach out to me by phone at 202-821-3999 if you are so inclined, or send me thoughts, stories, pictures, poetry, bits of dialogue, or experiences you shared with him at jugokapetanovic@gmail.com. These remembrances will be of great comfort to his family and all of us who loved him dearly. If you would like to attend the service and wake, please send me your email address and I will follow up with the exact details once they are set.
May it be of comfort to know that his soul is at peace now. The man of twists and turns has found his final resting place. Take solace in these last lines of "Ulysses" by Tennyson, ones we quoted often over the years:
Come, my friends,
'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
JUGO KAPETANOVIC