Sven Jacobs

Sven was my friend.
But most everyone who had been friends with him, had called him by his nickname Icebear.

He just loved the cold, or at the very least didn’t mind it.
And he joked about that a lot, too. Icebear was a man with witty humour, many “dad” jokes, someone who would always have an open ear for all my thoughts, my silly complaints about hardships in my life, and he would often share all of his, with me. You do not often find someone in your life who will tolerate you at your worst, give you a bear hug, say just the right understanding words, and really heal you, make you feel better. Everyone should hopefully find that kind of a person in their own lives, and Icebear was mine. If you are really lucky, you may have two friends like that. Who knows, maybe three. 

He and I first met at a convention. With hundreds of other people there. We would have a great time, and eventually each go our separate ways again, only to reunite at the house of other friends that I had made at the same convention. From there on out, we were friends forever.

We met a lot more often, even though I lived in a city about an hours drive away from him. We would have small parties, with other friends there with us, and we would play computer games and talk about our hobbies, go into a zoo or another nature park, and do so many more, different things. Life was great, like that. 

Eventually, due to health problems and risks, my friend wasn’t able to be there anymore, but that could not stop us. We would talk over the phone, we would talk using the computers we owned, we still played many games, albeit online only … and we still had many of our other friends around us there. It was a seamless transition, and even though it wasn’t the same as meeting in person anymore — we loved that too. We made the best of everything, and all the life circumstances.

It was on one such day, where he and I had planned to play together more, online, that he passed away.
Unexpectedly. Suddenly.

And I have never felt such intense emotions ever before in my life.
There are so many things I still wanted to do with him.
All the rest of my years, I wanted to still be in touch, online or otherwise, and be the best of friends.

Those who knew him, also knew about his various health risks.  I knew that my friend had no family. He told me. There was nobody to support him. He would want his family matters to remain private, so I shall not talk of it, more.

When he was suddenly taken from me, I was miserable. Since there was nobody like an actual family member of his, who I could turn to, I turned to my other friends for the extra love my broken heart needed, in the following months. I was lucky to have such wonderful friends. Understanding, kind friend. They knew him too, perhaps not quite as closely, but still —
— very shortly after his passing, was, when I noticed, that I was the only person in the world, who really and truly knew him. Who was this close to him. Yes, I had experienced grief before,  as distant relatives passed away.

I thought I knew what grief is like, but it really uprooted me, like I mentioned before, for the following months, it was very bad. I was going through an unpredictable mixture of tears, sadness, rage, regret, and guilt. But I started only weeks after his passing, to share every memory that came to mind, with others. Anyone really, who would allow it. Anyone who would listen. I shared anecdotes. Stories. Deep thoughts. Everyone. I still feel it all, now, but, it isn’t a thunderstorm anymore. Most times.

Please know and understand, that it helps me a great deal, to just talk about Sven, about Icebear.
Please — know that Sven Jacobs existed.

And that he was a heck of a guy!
That his stories were often peppered with comedic little extras,… … that he said that he had a self-made ice fridge-like contraption instead of an AC, to get through the summer heat!

That he enjoyed being a hero in games and in the hearts of his friend, and that he absolutely was one, too, to me!

Before his medical issues were too severe, he drove a small hatchback with lots of fun little Star Trek gizmos built into the seats and the dashboard. Lights from under the glove box. Later he owned a laptop, when laptops where much more rare things to own, than today, and he set it up so that a computerised voice would say “Voice Print Verified” after opening the lid, and waiting for the user to speak. It was all just for fun.

I hope, the world will always remember him. Through me, if I can do anything about it.

I have many small anecdotes that I now desperately want to stop from fading. And I adopted one of his favourite characters in an online game (Elder Scrolls) we would play, re-created the same character. And I am now playing this character in his honor.

I retrace our footsteps everywhere. I have tried and still try to find everyone he was friends with. And I put it all  here too.

So again. Sven …. “Icebear” existed! Thank you for honoring his memory, reading this. He was awesome.

In a world there are no family relatives that I might find for him, and just myself alone to remember details, mostly anyway, I can only hope that, in YOUR life, you also have a friend just like Icebear, and that you will remember that name.

For however long.

I loved Sven with all my heart.
I still do. Always will!
I still feel just as confused and helpless about his death I had at first. Still feel all this pain.

Still feel it’s all so unfair, to be mortal. When everyone has complex feelings. Everyone has a conscience. Is self aware, can have wonderful memories. I wished Sven was around forever. I wished that I would never forget a single detail about him. 

Oh my friend … wherever you are now, if at all. I hope you feel loved. I will carry our many memories, and I will share as many as I can. With everyone who listens. We both weren’t religious. We were both non-believers. We both weren’t exactly financially up there. We both didn’t have much. But we had each other. Just like Love itself, Friendship outlasts us all. It will not fade away, even when we ourselves eventually do.
I love you, Icebear.