John
Early this morning, in the last of my dreams, I saw my friend John standing on the corner of a busy intersection waiting to cross with a bunch of friends. They were enjoying each other’s company, laughing and talking. I watched from a distance, hoping John would see me. When he did, he smiled his big generous smile and turned towards me. I knew in the dream that John had died, that this was my chance to tell him how much he meant to me.
He died in his sleep on December 26th. We’d written each other holiday letters the week before. He was looking forward to a better year ahead, 2025 having been a tough one for him. His card included a big, smiley picture of himself in a red and white Santa’s hat. Classic John. He loved to make you smile.
I grew up with John. We were in the same kindergarten class, went to the same junior and senior high schools, sang in choirs together, and had a trio called The Mod Squad our senior year. He was the black guy, I was the white girl, our friend Perry was the other guy. We sang whatever we felt like singing in three-part harmony.
After high school, John sang background vocals on my earliest recordings. He had the purest tenor voice, a voice that could have made it on Broadway. Instead, he stayed in Erie, Pennsylvania where he’d gone to college, thrilled and animated audiences for decades performing with the local theater company, sang regularly at his church, and raised two beautiful girls with his wife, Sue.
At his funeral in early January, hundreds of people he’d loved singing for gathered and sang for him. It makes me weepy just thinking about it. What a life. What a powerful, beautiful life.
I’m not sure how to end this love letter to John, but I needed to write it. What I most want you to know about him is that he always led with kindness and joy despite whatever hardships he must have encountered. He will always be dear to my heart.
What a power letter. I love that your dream showed him crossing toward a bunch of friends. He had a bunch of friends--so he got there.
This makes me incredibly sad. And it also fills my heart. You had told me about John a while back and your description of his loving, joyful presence stuck with me. Now I have a wonderful face to put to that light in the world. Sending all love and peace to your grieving heart, dear Bar.