I wanted to speak today at the funeral, but I could barely keep myself together. I worked with John, apparently only people from The Eagle knew him as John, for 5 years. Fortunately , I got to know him well enough and called him Johnny on my own- John is so formal.
I was actually not surprised to learn that most knew him as Johnny. Someone named Johnny is your friend, and that is what he was to so many.
I was 23 when I started working at The Eagle, so Johnny was about the age I am now when he met me. I work with 23 year olds now and I feel so far removed from them that I make little to no effort to reach out to them or even know them.
Johnny took that effort, and even though I had teems of friends at the time, he reached out to me and became my friend. At the time I thought I was the one doing the old guy a favor by being his friend, but now I know he was the one offering the favor.
I took that friendship for granted in the sense that I assumed it would always be there for me to call on. I'd give anything to sit across from him right now and listen to his scientific reasons of why Bigfoot is real.
I knew Johnny well, and I am in tears right now as I write this, hours after the funeral. But, I try to rationalize it and say "" he was just a co-worker of mine that I didn't know all that well, he has friends and family that knew him much deeper and better" . But that thought doesn't comfort me, only makes me cry harder because I'll never get that chance to know him as they do.
Brenda and James, if I can ever do anything for you, please let me know. You were his life, and if I could help in any way it would make me feel as if I were still a part of it.