Wondering Back and Forward

His Always Birthday

What Might Have Been

Monday, May 11, would have been my son Johnny’s 49^th birthday, and as I suspect it happens to many parents who lose a child while they are still very young, I cannot help but wonder what his life might have been like if he were still alive today.

What friends might he still have from childhood? What new friends might he have made? Where might he have gone to high school, and after that would he have attended college or elected to follow a trade? Maybe he would have simply travelled for a while. Perhaps, he would have devoted himself to a single passion or become a renaissance jack of all trades.

When he settled down, would it be close to home or far away like his sisters did? His unlived life remains a blank slate. When I try to color it in, I find myself remembering those objects and activities that most captivated him while we were privileged to share his short life.

Book Lover Par Excellence

When those who knew Johnny think of him, the first thing that jumps into their mind is books. Johnny never went anywhere without a book—and preferably with a stack of them if he could handle them. He had about 100 favorite books and he could “read” them by heart from front to back. In each one of them he had a favorite page. At least once a day, he would arrange several books in a circle around him, open each to his favorite page, and contemplate them one at a time.

There was a prevalent theme that I noticed running through these books although they had various authors and far different characters.

Johnny loved narrative tales in which the protagonist was somehow different from the norm in a way that set them apart from their peers. Then over the course of the story, this character finds not only acceptance but love and adulation. One such character most of you will recognize is Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Others were Kathyrn Jackson’s Tawny Scrawny Lion, Margret and Corduroy with his lost button by Don Freeman, and any book featuring Sesame Street’s hapless Grover.

Intriguingly one book he absolutely read repeatedly was about dinosaurs. He could pronounce all their names even when I could not. On the flip side of that he had no interest in anything with wheels—not books about them, playing with toy trucks or cars or riding a bike. So, of course, he loved the “Land Before Time” at Epcot.

One book rang especially true for Johnny who suffered from intractable seizures. It is Arnold Lobel’s Giant John about a delightfully lovable giant who cannot help dancing whenever magic fairies play their music.

His sister Betsy chose another one of his favorite books before he was born. Betsy’s Baby Brother by Gunilla Wolde illustrates the tug and pull of the relationship of a little girl with her baby brother to precision. Both Johnny and his sister loved that book.

The Menagerie

Along with his books, Johnny loved to surround himself with a menagerie of stuffed animals. These little critters were most often in the image of his favorite literary characters. His Great-Uncle Bud Brophy, who worked for the Harris Bank, gave Johnny a beautiful stuffed lion, which was the mascot for the bank. Johnny promptly named him Tawny and slept with him every night. Lyle the Crocodile also made a great bedtime cuddle companion as did a wild duck as in “When the Wild Ducks Come,” by Margaret Chittenden and H. A. Rey’s Curious George, who like Johnny loved to get into mischief.

Considering the centrality of books in Johnny’s life, my first guess for his future would have been librarian or maybe editor. Yet, he had other interests. Dumping and reassembling jigsaw puzzles could hold his attention for hours, and he could do puzzles of up to 100 pieces.

Another favorite dump and reassembling activity he enjoyed was coin banks. Shaking every coin onto the floor, he then painstakingly placed each one back in its slot. He often did this with several of his banks at a time. I loved finding the perfect bank for him whenever we travelled. There was such a variety of them by the time he died I cannot remember them all. At the reception following his funeral, we gave them to friends to remember him by.

We kept the one his sister brought him from Boston with “Johnny” spelled on the side in lobsters. Every year we collect our loose change in this little China pig. Each April, we take it to the bank, count the coins, and then write a check for the total. This becomes a donation to the school where he spent eighteen happy years, Misericordia Heart of Mercy, for Candy Days, their biggest fundraiser of the year. His dad remembers so well that whenever he walked the halls and sidewalks of Misericordia with Johnny, everyone they passed stopped, smiled and greeted our son.

Above All Else

Way more than things, however, Johnny loved people. And he let them know it. His smile could light up a stadium. It certainly lit up any room he entered, and he was always smiling. He even laughed in his sleep. We used to say he was dreaming of monsters but instead of being scared, he thought they were funny.

Some people were extra special to him. For them his smile was even bigger, and his beautiful blue eyes twinkled like a ballroom chandelier. He had special nicknames for them. His cousin Bob was “O’Bob,” his uncle Mike was “Broph,” my mother’s helper Colleen was “You, Silly Goose,” and Betsy’s friend Maria was “Maria” but sung out like in “Westside Story.”

It remains incredibly difficult to go on without his bright and uplifting presence, but our whole family knows we were gifted with a wonderful blessing to have had him in our life even for a short time—and that he is in our hearts forever.