I won’t forget my last call with John.
Just his voice coming on the end of the line would make me smile, in a moment of anticipation. While John would sound old, a rasp in his voice, in later years, being on the phone I could always picture his eyes. The spirit in them: eyes that smiled, eyes that were spirit, excitement, mischief.
There’d be a question, with a mischievous upturn in his voice, “now tell me, Kevin…”. Relationships were typically the first topic, and then, how work was going. I’ll never forget John’s playful arrogance in restaurants, after making some attractive waitress laugh: “she adores me, cant’t you tell?”.
Some days we can have grey and dull moments, than others, some days you need a thought of someone – a totem for the hour, in some way – that reminds you that life is one giant, exciting, fascinating journey. John would come to mind, in two voices, his smiling eyes voice of curiosity and observations with a laugh, and the deeper more serene voice that would remind you that in life too, you have to knuckle down and plough on. I can only imagine the battle that was going on in John’s mind over a decade of pain, those two voices jousting.
In my last call with John, asking about work, he shared with a piece of advice from his working life, to “smile and make the call” and smile when they got on the phone.
John’s memory will forever remind me to live life in bright colours, in a full tilt of spirit – no matter what is going on inside.
I feel so lucky to have had John’s spirit in my, and that will live on.
From Uncle John’s Obituary:
“Fascinated, fascinating and endlessly curious, he was an eloquent, thoughtful
conversationalist. His humour was legendary and being with him was routinely
punctuated by outbursts of laughter. John was a lifelong learner and his opinions and
thoughts were always evolving. He died a wise man.”
