my Dear John letter...

I once knew an angel named John...

Strange where you find them, angels I mean.  Actually its been 1 decade, 7 years, unknown day but certainly an extraordinary day that I first laid eyes on him sitting on a bar stool at our neighborhood watering hole.  I was very uncomfortable being in a bar after 17 years of marriage and going through a bitter divorce.  Friends feel the need to drag you out for God knows what I had no idea. I know I felt like a fish out of water.

He had golden hair, blue eyes, tanned skin and legs, white shorts, some Hawaiian looking shirt reminded me of Jimmy Buffett drinking marguerita's...only it wasn't Margueriteville...and certainly we were not in paradise.  Well, maybe with a few more drinks I could pretend but at this point in my life, a 'guy' was the last thing on my list.  His choice of drink, if I recall, was a bloody Mary.  He undoubtedly picked up on my awkwardness by starting up a conversation with me while my gorgeous friend with lots of admirers was flitting around like a movie star, table to table.

Meeting him changed the whole course of my life events.  He was the sweetest gift I ever received, my knight in shining armor in my hour of need.    We were pretty much inseparable from the moment we met, but it wasn't because of a 'love' attraction it was more than that.  Our souls kissed and neither of us would ever be the same.   He needed me about as much as I needed him, or a hole in the head, ha!  I'd like to think I brought out the best in him at the onset, giving him a reason to live free of alcohol and pull his own life back together, and he carried me emotionally and physically through that most difficult and trying time in my life as the stress and strain took its toll.  We just fell into the folds of one another's lives, it was a beautiful thing.  I don't know what I would have done without him.  I knew nothing of love truly until J, especially unconditional love ... its rare one ever finds it; if they do andloseit,theyalwayslong to have it again ... but its all too elusive.

Looking back, he was my greatest happiness, my sweetest sorrow.  For 9 years he was the glue that held this family together, the comforter, the voice of reason, the father my daughters never had, and that deep deep voice of his still resonates in my memory.  I remember when he would call the office, the girls would always comment about his deep voice.  Oftentimes I've longed to hear his voice off the old answering machine just one more time, but my heart couldn't bear the pain. I remember us discussing our mortality about who should die first leaving the other one, and I always told him that I would need to perish first because otherwise I would just cease to thrive anyway, and that the girls would need a strong loving father and grandfather to guide them. Even when I teased I'd throw him to the curb if he failed to get out the garbage or some other infraction jokingly, he always teased me and said I'd miss him if he was gone, I just never knew howmuch.Iknowheiswatching over us still, I feel him.  I know he knows of the recent chain of events and as I write this one of our own is on the brink of suicide, its just been a mess; its heartwrenching what life for some has become since his departure, 8 years, 3 months, and 3 days ago. Please watch over her, John.  Our world shattered when God called his angel back home, his earthly demise from lung cancer taking him away at only 51 years of age, and while I've managed to piece my life together others have not so much.

This Thanksgiving, it felt a little raw for me emotionally sitting here, thinking back on those family holiday dinners.  He always recited a prayer of thanks, throwing in his own ad lib of 'thankfuls' as we all did, laughing and joking.  Today I know he would be proud that his granddaughter Isabella gave the dinner prayer at the table, just the two of us, sad there was missing loved ones.  At 12 now, she's growing up, only 4 when he passed.  She told us that Papaw John came to see her in the park that day to tell her that he had to go away, for her to be good, and he disappeared she said.  A worker found her sitting alone crying and consoled her.  The worker told me the story when I picked her up from daycare that day.  John had been on his deathbed for days.  Amazing the spirit and the bonds of love forever there.

Dear John, thank you for taking us under your wings for the years we got to spend with you, and for loving us unselfishly and with reverence always.  An angel's job is never done, you know, as you will have to continue to keep a vigil on this mess of a family you left behind.  Hopefully those lost loved ones will return to the Thanksgiving table given time and healing through love.  We miss you much.
With love.



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