Two Men Named John

A couple of days ago my old friend Dr. John Galloway died.  He was extraordinarily well loved by his wife, family, colleagues and friends.  He deserved it.  He was an extraordinary man.  A few years ago he developed a horrible illness called lewy body dementia which is a lot like Alzheimer's but worse.  He had non-stop comfort and care until the end. But, still, his death, in many ways, was a blessing.  He has been, and will be missed, by many groups of people, including Forum, where he was once a vital leader.

This past summer another man named John started attending Forum.  He was extremely quiet.  Some folks, including Dave, made an effort to get to know him but he mostly sat in the back of the room and did not participate in the discussions.  In the fall, he quit coming.  I don't know if anybody noticed.  I did not.  We are a big group.

Last week my friend called to tell me that John had died.  She knew him a tiny bit better because he occasionally met with her and a few others at the library.  She thought he had a brain tumor but she wasn't sure.  One day he just disappeared.  A few weeks later my friend receive a note from John's sister who lives in another state telling her that had John died on October 25th.  He apparently had no other family.  The sister gave no forwarding address.

That's almost all I know about John.  I do know his last name but since he was so private I don't want to share it.  Also, this isn't about John.  It's about me and all of us who have a new person show up in our lives, perhaps looking for something.  Here's a poem I wrote in 1975:

MARGARET RITZ

Margaret Ritz, Margaret Ritz,
I'll call you when I can. 
You haven't seem me lately,
But that was the risk you ran, 
When you chose me for a friend,
And cluttered up my plan.
I do important things, you know,
I'll call you when I can. 

Margaret Ritz, Margaret Ritz,
I heard you when you said,
That friends are hard to come by, 
But I've got to plan ahead.
Now you've played an awful trick on me, 
In the church bulletin I read, 
While meditating on my life, 
"Margaret Ritz is dead."

- Cecily Crossman, 1975

John, I sincerely hope you found what you were looking for on those Sundays you visited Forum.


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