Dan Yashinsky's son Jacob died tragically in a car accident at the age of 26. Dan, Jacob and Jacob's best friend Effie were driving back to Toronto after a magical trip to Montreal when Dan fell asleep at the wheel and crashed. Dan and Effie survived, but Jacob did not. When the unimaginable happens--a parent is still somehow here but their child is gone--all that's left are stories. In the process of grieving his son, Dan realized that he was now Jacob's storykeeper, and I Am Full is Jacob's story.

Jacob's death is the least interesting thing about him. How he lived, the kind of man he became, is what matters most. All his life, Jacob had struggled with Prader-Willi Syndrome, but rather than let it defeat him, he became an advocate for people suffering from PWS as well as people coping with various other disabilities. He was a jewelry-maker, a photographer, a songwriter, a TPS crossing guard, and an avid fisherman. Six months after Jacob's death, Dan began to gather and create the texts that make up this chronicle, all the while guided by Jacob's imagined voice. The events in I Am Full are drawn from many periods of Jacob's life. Much of it--poems, sayings, speeches, letters, notes--are in Jacob's own words and the rest is told in his imagined voice narrating things that Dan saw him do or hear him talk about. Jacob's voice has been captured and carried in this unique book, which goes beyond the terrible grief of losing a child to preserving and sharing his story.

I carry you all, meals, kisses, injera from the Ethiopian restaurant, doubles from Gerry’s, rotis from Albert’s, Dutch Dreams ice cream double scoop with topping, my mom’s big hugs, my brother’s voice, the shvitz at the Jewish Community Centre, my kids crossing at Winona and Benson, How I Met Your Mother, NCIS and watching all the episodes of all the seasons with my beautiful mother, the standing ovation after my speech, my vape, bass, pike, my one muskie, the click of my Nikon shutter, Effie’s laugh, Effie saying, “Oh my GOD!” the day we met, Appleton’s rum at games nights, my dad’s foot rubs at night, Luisa sauntering beside me instead of hurrying ahead like the others, my support workers, rods, reels, fedoras, pearls, semi-precious gemstones, my RRSP, my grandparents, Mishigas the border collie, Jewelz our mutt who I chose and named, love, love, Wynee’s smile when we pick her up from her group home, her bare breasts, her perfume, The Sopranos, fishing with my dad and calling out “FISH ON!”, laughing when Natty teases me, calculating my jewellery profits, the farmers’ market at the Barns on Saturday morning, all of my eccentrics on St. Clair West, love and love, Chez Jose on the Plateau in Montreal, New York, Holland, Grandpa Jack’s potage, singing JOLENE JOLENE JOLENE JOLENE with the neighbours, singing along with Janis Joplin with the windows rolled down and “TAKE IT! Take another little piece of my heart …”, Bernard’s funny green elf slippers, the time I went outside at a seder so I could knock on the door as Elijah the Prophet, kombucha after a workout, showing Bernard my stuff, pedalling my Hobie Pro Angler, fishing with my wacky-rigged Sankos, swapping dirty jokes with my dad, and LamborGHINI!, and reading Jewish jokes in the bathroom, the Feast of the Red Bean when my dad’s oldest friends come and we sing and eat all night long, hip hop, love, every morning having espresso at Krave on my way to the intersection, my mom’s grin, my cool brother, love, Jewelz licking my face when I cry or pretty much anytime, Kensington Market, my fur coats, my birdcage display full of earrings, my Cuban sandwich in the car on our drive back from Montreal and eating it on the 401 and telling my dad, “This is delicious!” and feeling full, and keeping my children safe with my stop sign and my whistle and my strong arms held out to keep the traffic under control, and seeing them all coming towards me to cross Winona and Benson on their way to school, my intersection, being responsible, being sane, being a man, all of my children, safe because I am here and will protect them, and I blow my whistle and I blow my whistle and I blow my whistle, and I am full.