Yes, John, you deserved the attention

Recently while attending a friend’s memorial service, I had the chance to visit with people I have not seen since I was a child.

No one likes a funeral, but they always bring people together.

At this particular memorial service we were saying goodbye to our friend John Cammack.

I remember no matter where I was, if I saw John he would come over, shake my hand, ask how I was doing and inquire about my parents and sister.

John’s passing was sudden and unexpected. That might be hard to believe considering he was 74, but he was not one to be slowed down by age.

John would have loved to visit with everyone who attended his services, while telling us that he didn’t deserve all this attention.

Truth is, you did John, you deserved that and so much more from those of us who had the privilege to know you.

Standing upon the hilltop overlooking the prairie, many shared their memories and testaments of how you impacted their lives.

Later, we gathered in the gym at the Nara Visa Community Center. John, there were 10 chocolate cakes. I recently just learned of your love of chocolate cakes. You would have not been disappointed.

I looked around the gym at all the people who were visiting with one another. I knew the majority of the people who were there, but there were some I did not recognize.

Among those there was Betty Jim Miller, who used to baby-sit me.

I was only 3 or 4 when she moved away, but when she began to talk to me I recognized her voice.

My mom has a photo of me when I was 2 weeks old, attending my first birthday party. Betty Jim’s daughter turned 1, and from additional photographic evidence, I discovered a love for birthday cake that day.

Betty Jim told me she has a picture of me sitting on a couch playing a toy guitar. I guess when I was 3 I had aspirations of a musical career.

I wish we were not there to tell you goodbye and I wish you could have been there to hear everything that was said.

I probably won’t know for many years to come but Lord willing, when the time comes, I’m going to ask Saint Peter, “Was John the first one to ever shake your hand?”