Author:
Leigh Hedden
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Date Posted: 07:42:15 10/05/05 Wed
I have avoided writing anything on this memory board because there's just too much to say and my mind is still traveling all over the place when I think of John. It's hard to pin it all down to just a few sentences. John was the big brother I never had. My very earliest memory of John was playing in the driveway at MaHank and Papa's house. I was probably 2 or 3 and John would have been about 10 or so. He had a two-by-four and would pick up a rock from the driveway and hit it with that stick. He could do it over and over and never miss the rock. I can close my eyes and hear the sound of the wood hitting that rock and it would go flying across the road. I was so amazed that he could do that. He let me try it a few times and I never could hit that little rock with that stick. He amazed me then, and he continued to impress me for the rest of his life.
John was only 8 years older than I, so when I was growing up, he was always at MaHank and Papa's house when I was there - which was almost every day. He was the epitomy of "cool" to me - throughout the years, even after I became an adult. John was COOL. Thinking back to those early years, I think of Mad Magazines (Spy vs. Spy and Alfred E. Newman) and crazy t-shirts he used to wear. I will never go back to Myrtle Beach that I don't think of something I did there with him - water bogging, the Pavilion, rafting in the ocean. He didn't seem to mind or be embarassed that a kid was always tagging along with him wherever he went.
He used to drive a school bus in high school and I rode it a few times when I stayed over at MaHank and Papa's house. I was so proud of him because, like I said, he was just so cool. Once, when I was riding my own bus, a bigger boy in high school picked on me on the school bus and I came home crying. The next day, unbeknownst to me, when our bus went to the high school to pick up the big kids, John stepped onto our bus and said, "Which one is he?" I pointed him out and John knocked him in the nose and told him he better not ever look sideways at me again - and you know what, he never did!
He and Ben used to play football in the yard with Lissa and I. Two little girls (who were probably pretty pathetic at football) would play football with their uncles - and we absolutely loved it.
I remember John walking out across the pasture, across the highway, to the old graveyard on Papa's property and shining the flashlight back at us to let us know he was over there. He was tough . . and brave. He was supposed to yell "Wake up John Clayton". Ben had done the same thing when he was younger. Then, Nathan did it when he was old enough. I guess it was a tradition in the coming of age for males in our family.
I remember John in the yard in the wintertime - he could throw a MEAN snowball! I can still see him throwing it and laughing. When I got to middle and high school, John and Tina lived right across the road from us. I ALWAYS wanted to go over and spend the night at their house. They always let us stay up late. Sometimes, we would go out in the middle of the night and get cheeseburgers. John didn't have a lot of money, but he always was generous to spend it on me.
John was the first person to introduce me to MTV when it came out in the early 80s. I watched my first videos at his house. He was an expert with the VCR and had numerous tapes of movies and videos. When I started dating, I always took my boyfriends to John's house. Being around him was more like hanging out with friends instead of being around the "old" people. He always welcomed me into his home and I always felt like he genuinely wanted me there. He could talk about any subject with real knowledge, but he wasn't arrogant or boastful. He could work a crossword puzzle like no one I've ever known. His vocabulary and intellect was amazing!
A few years ago, John started the now-a-tradition paperball fight at Christmas. After we opened all the presents, we would wad up the paper on the floor and start throwing the paper balls at each other. John, of course, was the king of this kind of thing!
After I got married, I didn't see John as much for a few years in the early 90s. By "as much", I still saw him about weekly or every other week, but not every few days like I was used to. He really came back into my life after I had kids. John was exceptionally good to my children. If you have kids, you know that when somebody does something good for your kids, nothing can make you happier. He did that because he loved them - he did it because he loved me. John was always playing with Gunner, talking to him about what was going on his life. John was older, but he was still cool. He bought things for my kids and also gave them his time and sincere interest in their lives.
Back in late spring, my baby, Augustus, was crying at lunch one Sunday and John took him in the other room and held him while I ate. John didn't even eat, he just went into the other room and held the baby. I got so busy talking and visiting that I didn't think about the baby at all and forgot to go and get him back to let John eat. When I remembered, I jumped up in the kitchen and went into the living room. Augustus was asleep on John's shoulder. I said, "I'm so sorry! I can't believe it - I just forgot all about him!" John smiled at me and said, "That's exactly what I wanted you to do." That was the kind of man John was. A few weeks later, he showed up one Sunday afternoon and had a bow for Gunner and a knife for Dakota. He was just so loving.
Football season has started and it's not the same without John. He loved all kinds of football. He came to Gunner's little league games last fall. The first game this year, I looked around, knowing that he wasn't there, but missing him nonetheless. A few days ago, Gunner asked his Daddy if John, Tina, and Ben were going to be at his game that week-end. Clyde hesitated and said, "Gunner, you remember, John died." Gunner got quiet for a few seconds and then looked at his Daddy and said, "Well, then I know he's at ALL of my games this year."
I like to walk at the track at night sometimes and listen to music. Lately, I've been listening to ELO - it makes me think of John, especially "Telephone Line". I wish I had a telephone line to John and I could talk to him just one more time. He introduced me to all the best groups. When I was younger, I used to be proud because I could identify songs, lyrics, and groups that were popular before my time. I would always brag and say, "My uncles introduced me to this music when I was learning how to walk."
When I was growing up, John called me "UG-Leigh" to aggravate me. He loved to pick on me, but it was all in fun. It never bothered me at all - I knew his attention meant that he loved me. He would tell me to SCRAM, but he didn't really mean it. Well, maybe sometimes he did. :)
I am an insomniac - have been for about 10 years now - and I often lay awake at night and flip through the channels. The other night, I was flipping and I came across Benny Hill. I never truly "got" that show. But, in memory of John, I stopped and watched it for a little while. I miss him. I cannot believe he is really gone. I thought he would probably be the last one in his immediately family still here and I thought, since he was closer in age to me, that we would grow old together and I would visit with him and we would talk about "remember when . . back before the turn of the century". Now I have to remember when without him.
It hurts very much. I know everyone is still hurting, but I think I just started letting it in a little bit. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I step outside and look up at the sky. I wonder if he can see me. I wonder if he knows I am thinking of him. I have some comfort in knowing that he has Papa with him and that they are together. Although I cannot communicate directly with John anymore, sometimes when I pray, I ask God to let John and Papa know that I miss them, that I love them, and that their memory is still strong here with me. I ask God to give them messages, and I believe that He does.
I don't visit grave sites - maybe on the rare occasion. I know that the person is not there. Some people get some comfort out of being near the resting place of a loved one, but I get more comfort out of hearing a song, or visiting a place where I had a memory with that person. I don't know what's exactly on the other side, but I know that if John could comfort me in some way, he would. If he were able to tell me everything is okay, he would do that for me. I think he's saying, "Man, if you knew what was waiting for you over here, you wouldn't be sad." I know that John is just one of the great things waiting for me there. I loved him and I know that he loved me. I wish I had told him more often.
So, you can see why I haven't written on this message board before now. I have too many memories to write them all down. I may write more later, if it's not too painful, if I can gather my thoughts, if I am able. But, even if I don't write it down, it's still in my heart. It's in my mind. It is still fresh inside of me. I imagine being an 80 year old woman and thinking of my 46-year old uncle who died too soon. He will still be older and wiser than I, even then.
Friz, if you read this, I wanted you to know that your message about calling out to John on the CB in the middle of the night gave me chills. I feel the same way. Sometimes I look at the sky and think, "Talk to me - tell me something." I look for signs, for messages, for things in nature. He was taken from us too soon. He lived his life the way he wanted to. He was a happy man, a unique man, a special man. He touched everyone he came into contact with. His life will forever influence mine. He was one of the people that I truly loved most in this world. He was my big brother.
I love you John. Thank you for everything you ever did for me. I will never forget you.
Your niece,
Leigh
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