On Jan. 8, I woke up and habitually grabbed my phone. That's when I was bombarded with news, notifications, and heartbroken social media posts: Ukraine International Airlines Flight 752 had crashed.

Nobody on board survived.

Soon enough, I was looking through a list of passengers published online and it felt like my brain froze.

I had lost four good friends. Parinaz, Iman, Mohsen and Mahsa are not with us any more.

The past month has been miserable for all Canadians, but especially those of us who have Iranian roots. For me, the shock of that morning still hasn't worn off.

Parinaz, Iman, Mohsen and Mahsa are not with us any more.

Maybe my friends are gone to teach everyone an important lesson: that it's time to put the hate away. - Mahyar Soeizi

I remember staring at the wall, barely blinking, when my mind flashed back on the memories I shared with those four.

I'd just seen Parinaz two days before she flew to Iran. She was a branch manager at a midtown RBC who was beautiful, energetic and positive. Her husband, Iman, was a quiet man who was a fixture at community events, and it's easy to picture his smile.

All I can hope is that he was holding Parinaz's hand in their final moments.

I don't know what it's going to be like when our group of friends get together and those two angels aren't there.

Mohsen, he was my classmate at Ryerson University back in the day. I still remember how much fun we had passing around books and helping each other in assignments and exams. On Fridays, we'd stop studying to join a soccer game.

If there is one word I am going to remember him with, that would be humble.

Mohsen Salahi and Mahsa Amirliravi had been teachers at Cestar College in North York for three years. (Bella Levy/Facebook)

Mahsa was his partner, in life and at work. They both taught at Cestar College in North York, where I'm sure they're missed.

Mohsen and Mahsa, rest in peace.

You always think things like this — plane crashes, natural disasters, wars — are things that happen to neighbours you don't know.

We pause to give them a moment of condolence and move on.

Then it happens to you.

This event has been so close to me that I realize I need to change my vision.

From the day of the crash, it seemed like everyone around me became a political expert who was looking to cast blame.

Some pinned the blame squarely on Iran, others blamed the U.S., and others suggested there was an arrangement between the two countries worked out in secret. Some people even said that people have to die for others to realize what's going on.

That doesn't interest me. I don't have answers.

So instead of taking a side or igniting the flame of war, I'm focusing on helping those around me heal.

Maybe my friends are gone to teach everyone an important lesson: that it's time to put the hate away and start promoting acceptance in our world.

Mahyar Soeizi is an entrepreneur who runs multiple businesses in Vaughan and Toronto.