My friend, my brother, Aaron J. Levine, is dead.
Aaron Levine
I’ve struggled with writing this, and I know that Aaron would tell me to stop waiting, and just write. With tears in my eyes, let me tell you what is on my heart right now.

 
 

I want to tell you everything about him, because maybe, somehow, you’ll understand why I loved him so much, and maybe, just maybe you can listen to his words on the podcast, or read his words on my blog and he can live on a little with you too.

 
 

Aaron Levine (6/4/1989) was born in California to Karla and Russell.

 
 

He was an only child and spent much of his childhood playing video games. In high school he became devoted to traditional Okinawan kobudo, and its philosophy of Shokunin, working for the general welfare of the people, an obligation both material and spiritual. He was taught to embrace shokunin since he was a teenager. All cross training was encouraged, and it did not take long for him to discover that capoeira, roller derby, and bachata all could inform and be informed by his martial arts practice.
 

 
 

He took part in the Model UN at Sac State, an undergrad in a graduate course, going to Chicago to debate, where he met his lifelong friends Mike and Judy. Mike remembered thinking, “While most of us were holding back panic, Aaron seemed to be thriving in the chaos and obliterating anyone with a bad idea in his. How could you not want to hang around a guy like that?” Then he and Mike refereed in Judy’s roller derby games.

 
 

He traveled the world and learned to speak truth to power

Aaron loved calling out bullshit and so he earned his Bachelor’s in Sociology because it was the academic discipline that made the world make the most sense. He earned his Master’s in Sociology to continue that growth, and joined the Peace Corps for adventure, volunteership, and the discovery of untold stories. He spent three years in Eswatini (formerly Swaziland, a country surrounded by South Africa). In that time he tried to determine what programs were effective in slowing the spread of AIDS and analyzed intersections of gender identity in Eswatini.

I befriended Aaron in 2018, and he was just about the most perceptive, empathic and arrogant person I had ever met. What a combo. I really liked his arrogance though, because it reminded me of myself. He had just finished his Masters in Sociology at PSU. We started to hang out, and every time we did, he blew my mind with his analysis of class, race, gender and oppression theory. He put into context so much of the struggles that we face in the nonprofit sector on a daily basis.

On top of all this, he went to therapy, and was dedicated to becoming a more self aware human. One of the books he recommended to me was Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, and another one was The Language of Emotions. He was so good at seeing me, really seeing me, and letting me be vulnerable. I can’t ever thank him enough for that.

 

He was a true sociologist and had a gift for reading people and noticing their misconceptions, issues, and what they were struggling with. In addition to his creative writing, he was always applying his sociology knowledge in his interaction with people. He wrote several articles and was interviewed on sociology concepts like hegemonic masculinity and being a traitor to whiteness.

Here are the articles he wrote for me:

Your History Class sucked on purpose

and Traitor to Whiteness? WTF is up with that?

I also interviewed him on my podcast

Masculinities and Femininities at Work

What is Hegemonic Masculinity, and why should you care?

Why women have a harder time getting leadership roles
 

We loved his creativity.

Aaron was so creative! He enjoyed writing. It was his preferred form of artistic expression. It took most of his lifetime to come to terms with the fact that he was a writer. So instead of buckling down to write he began collecting life experiences instead. He wrote 

Like a true Gemini he was all about the theater. Here he is dressed in drag for the Georgia McBride show. 

 
 

He helped with acting in and running dinner murder mystery theater, he built set for local shows in Portland and on top of that he was proud of directing a 10 minute play written by Megan Kevane this May.

 
 

He became beloved by the Funhouse Lounge crew, and learned to run lights and sound for different shows from 2021 to 2023. After he ran the Georgia McBride show, Landy said NEVER AGAIN! But he got better at running lights and sound with the Golden Girls show, the Twisted show, the Point Break live show, and more. The cast were always trying to make him laugh. His laugh rang out like lightning over the audience.

 
 

As a child he also went to circus camp. He was devoted to Pathfinder as a roleplaying game, and was a dungeon master of an online DnD group in 2021 for his California and Oregon friends. I was so grateful to be part of this group, it helped alleviate some of the social isolation of 2021 for me. I remember the day I didn’t want to let go of a baby rust monster that we found in the basement of our adventuring den. And he said I could keep it. I was just sitting there, crying, trying to figure out why I was crying. And maybe it was just that something in my heart broke open, in that moment.  We had to stop that group because he got a job at the post office and he no longer knew what his schedule was going to be. I missed that group so I joined another one, and I’m still part of it today. He joined our roleplaying group as a player, mainly to hang out with me, and I was so grateful that he did that.
He played a water genasi cleric named Plew because when we lost our cleric to an out-of-town move, he stepped in. I appreciate that he helped me be a good DnD player, and was patient as I was learning what I could do. He was patient with all of us, most of us had never played DnD before. He was always looking for ways to help people have fun and come together. 

 
 

He was so so loved.

 

This is us at his birthday party last year. We had such a good time! We played DnD in person, and then we played other games. Had cupcakes, he shot off a confetti cannon, it was really fun.

We could probably write a whole book on all the people and animals that loved him, including Sarah, his Masters in Sociology friend and her husband Aaron, Melissa, his roommate, his adopted sister, me, his girlfriend, Annissa, and his cat, Val. At his memorial there were over 50 people there, and more on the livestream. Everyone was in tears. People spoke mostly about his laugh, and how he had helped them. 

 
 

We don’t know why he died and we won’t know for several months. It seemed like a heart attack. In his last moments, he wasn’t alone. Annissa and Melissa were with him. It feels so wrong that he was taken from us so soon. He had so much he still wanted to do. He wanted to be a dad. He wanted to have a meaningful job fighting for equity and justice. He wanted to stop struggling so hard to make money. He was working as a private investigator, because he wanted to look towards the part of society that most people look away from. The firm went under and so he couldn’t continue there. He wrote and ran escape rooms for a time. Then he worked at the post office, but he got injured so he had to stop working there. After he left the post office he worked doing dog sitting, ran the light and sound at the theater, and was looking for more work. I was working on helping him be a grantwriter, to use his writing powers for justice. And then he died.
He wanted so hard to start a family, but he had a family. He did. He was family to us. He had people in California and Portland who loved him dearly and couldn’t get enough of spending time with him. He was adopted brother not just to me but to others. His friends Nate and Mykie named their child after him. He was going to be chief babysitter for his friend Sarah and her husband Aaron. His friend Mike writes, I will remember Aaron for his wit, his charisma, his sense of humor, and his love for life. I know that so many others also will. I am ridiculously grateful for all of the time we had together. Aaron was family and I will miss him terribly.” 
He will forever be in our hearts.  

Deadheading roses, burning the past

It’s been almost 3 weeks and I can’t stop crying about Aaron being gone. I’m working with his family and friends to figure out what needs to be done, and we uncover different things each week and deal with them. Yesterday we got his car donated to a good friend who needed a reliable car.  Today I went over to his house and smudged it and banged my drum all the way through it with his roommate so we could let his spirit go, just like I did with him when he first moved into that house, because the previous owner, an elderly woman, had also died there. Then I trimmed the roses in the front, crying, remembering when he first got the place and I taught him how to deadhead his roses. I cried with his roommate and hugged her. And we talked about taking care of the cat, his little man, Val. If anyone wants to donate to help afford Val’s special kidney cat food, you can make donations here.

17 Responses

  1. I’m so sorry to hear of your loss. Clearly he has been called to the other side furthering his mission for humanity. This is a plus gain for angels but it’s a terribly painful transition for those who are still here and love him dearly. I send you love and hugs in this time of grief.

    1. hahaha a plus gain for angels- that is a phrase I never heard before, I’ll take it. 🙂 thank you Sachii

  2. Oh Mazarine- I am so sorry for your loss. Aaron sounds like a fantastic friend- the kind everyone needs. I am so glad you found him and helped him form a wonderful chosen family. It’s never easy to lose someone special, but losing them too young is truly devastating. Sending hugs and lots of smiles while you and your tribe celebrate his ongoing magic. Godspeed, Aaron.

    1. Thank you Karen. He was a really special friend. I am so so grateful that I had as much time as I did with him. Thank you for holding me in my grief.

  3. Mazarine, I am so sad for the sudden death of your dear brother-by-choice, Aaron and the loss that surrounds you and your friends. I can only imagine the hole that such an amazing person’s absence leaves in your life.

    Since I work in a hospice, may I offer you a resource that is meaningful to people here. The book, The Wilderness of Grief: Finding Your Way by Alan Wolfelt, helps people step into their grief and meet that pain.

    You and Aaron have helped so many grow into more compassionate people. May you feel that compassion surrounding you now in your times of sorrow.

    1. Thank you so much Anne for the book recommendation. I’ll definitely check it out. I see your expertise from working at a hospice, and really appreciate you sharing it. Thank you for seeing that he helped me have more compassion. It was such a side benefit of knowing him. i know that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

  4. Mazarine, this is a beautifully written testimony of Aaron’s life and the intense loss currently being felt by those who loved him. Besides his novel and other content he created and contributed to (thanks for those links, by the way!), Aaron’s greatest legacy is embodied by the people who’s lives he touched during his too brief a time among us, and, to the extent that such impacts can be conveyed in this format, your post does so eloquently. Thank you for these words, thank you for all the work you are doing to help sort his affairs, and most of all thank you for reaching out and connecting with me and others who miss our friend so deeply.

    1. Nate thank you so much for saying what he meant to you at his service. I’m so glad you knew him even longer than i did. You had more incredible Aaron time! I’m so grateful that he existed and that we got to know him so well. I’m so grateful he made me realize how I didn’t have to compromise with friends, that really really good friends are out there, and we just need to make room for them to step in. Looking forward to getting together with you and Mykie sometime soon.

  5. Mazarine,

    My heart is breaking into a million pieces. I Am holding you tight, whispering “I understand” into your heart (I wish I didn’t. I wish you didn’t. But we both do. And it is a terrible thing.), telling you over and over that I love you. Thank you for sharing your beautiful letter and this beautiful tribute. Keep writing. Keep crying. Keep surrounding yourself with people who loved Aaron. Don’t try to make sense of it all because it doesn’t make sense. Keep looking for him in unexpected moments and places. He will be there. Greet him every time.

    I love you.
    Tracy

    1. Tracy thank you so so much for this beautiful comment, and I’m sorry that you too, know the trauma of losing a brother who was so close to you. I am so sorry for all of the loss you have experienced since COVID started. It doesn’t seem fair. It isn’t right. And yes, there’s no making sense of this tragedy. But you are right, I can look out for moments when he is there, and I thank you for reminding me that I can do that. Love you too Tracy,
      Mazarine

  6. Mazarine,
    Thank you for sharing your brother with us. He was such a loving soul who made this world a better place. I am so sorry for your loss. I know he will live on in those he touched.

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