Leaving Nothing Behind But Love: The Impact of Kindness

One of the most beautiful elements of the human experience is our ability to seek out and form connections. 

A kind word from a stranger, the bonds of a lifelong friendship — life is made up of synchronistic moments with each other.

Everyone has the ability to cultivate these connections, but there’s a group of people whose ability to foster a feeling of interconnectedness flows with ease. 

Jesica Dorronsoro was one of those special souls. 

We met during a difficult point in our lives. Our meeting was brief but insulated. We spent days in conversation, partaking in activities, eating our meals together, attending groups together, healing together. At 14 and 15 years old, we found ourselves in treatment for our well-being, each grappling with our own demons. 

Jes was the first peer I encountered who knew exactly what I was dealing with. She was someone who understood why I couldn’t just “be happy,” who recognized that I seemed to feel things differently than others — because she did too. She listened to me, gave advice, advocated for me and, ultimately, made me feel less alone as she shared her story. 

When it was time for Jes to return to everyday life, we exchanged phone numbers with the promise to keep in touch. 

We managed to stay virtually connected for a time, sharing life updates, including the birth of her son, whom she loved fiercely before he was ever conceived. I so vividly remember her telling me how she knew she was meant to be a mom, and she was right. 

As time added distance to our week together, we fell out of touch. But in 2019, we reconnected at Druthers in Saratoga, where she was waitressing. Her energy was palpable, her smile infectious. She was stunning, both inside and out, her entire being radiated positivity that pulled you right in. I walked up to her and reintroduced myself, we hugged and discussed how much our lives had improved since the last time we shared the same space. 

For the past two and a half years I’ve had the honor of watching her life blossom, virtually cheering her on as she raised a remarkable young man, busted her ass working two jobs and continued her studies as she worked to become a nurse, a career she was designed for. 

On Monday, February 7, I opened Facebook and saw her picture on my feed, posted by Druthers. I read the post, but I couldn’t process its words. "Why does it say they lost Jes? Why are they praying for her and her family?," I thought. I just kept saying “no,” until I Googled her name and read she was killed in an accident early Sunday morning. 

I called my two best friends, one whose aunt worked with Jes and the other, a NYS trooper on the Crash Reconstruction Unit. She confirmed the news and stayed on the phone as I cried and tried to wrap my head around the series of events.

It had been years since I spoke to this woman, and more than a decade since our week together. But her effervescence, compassion, warmth, perseverance and dedication to life seemed to transcend time. I was pulled into the recesses of my brain, remembering our time together as if it happened yesterday. Her death didn’t seem real, and my heart broke for her family. 

My heart hurt for her, and the unjustness of it all. She worked so hard to get where she was, her dreams were within reach and they were taken away. 

But in my tears and my hurt heart lay proof of the impact Jes had on people. 

Three days after the news broke, my Facebook feed is flooded with posts from people in her life sharing how Jes made their lives better. Friends, family, customers, community members, classmates all shared the same message: She was the physical embodiment of kindness, loyalty, compassion and care. 

“In order to be remembered, leave nothing behind but love,” is an affirmation printed on my favorite Yogi tea, sweet tangerine positive energy. I don’t know if Jes ever found herself holding a cup of tea with that message dangling from its side, but that's how she lived her life.

She left behind nothing but love. 

Her passing reminded me to do better, to be kinder, more compassionate, more understanding. But also to stand up for myself, to not be ashamed of my deep feelings, to fight for the ones I love, never give up on my dreams and never let anyone dim my sparkle. That's how Jes lived, and I believe the world would be a better place if we all were a little more like her.

Thank you, Jes; you will never be forgotten.