John Gardella

I was told that he was a Grumpy old fellow that preferred to be left alone.   Grumpy John was the informal neighborhood nickname.   I doubted it from day one.  I was deeply honored, to prove the hearsay wrong.   I was ever more humbled by his Presence with me during his last public appearance.   He may have known he was short on time.

As John greeted me from his Garage area on that 21st of January snowy morning, I felt a tingle inside, knowing that my simple gesture of clearing his sidewalk and driveway would help us finally Connect.

John’s tiny home near the 3 story historic apartment complex, my former home 2 doors to right.

I had lived here 4 years already, embarrased by my lack of Presence with him.  The 2020 pandemic grounded my crazy flight schedule.   I was finally available to his potential needs.   I had an agenda to be kind, regardless of his reaction.   Once again, Life doesn’t fail to reciprocate based on true uniting-Intent.   Life cannot be fooled by one point of view, imagining its self to be alone.

What I thought would be a brief “thank you”, turned into a one hour, inspiring conversation.

“Did you know I’ve lived here my entire life?” stepping forward with a vibe of hope and John’s uniquely forming smile.

Smiling and readying for a pleasant surprise, “I do know this.  I’ve heard you were born into this home, 89 years ago, is that right?”  honoring John’s heartful initiation.

“I’ve seen this town grow up!  Much change over those years!   Did you know something about your own house? […]” John offered as I hung on every word, trying to draw out his Storyline to both learn from him and show him gratitude for affecting his local village for so long.

John went on to discuss the intricacies of remodeling and change of ownership for not only my home two doors north of his, but many fascinating details for the homes surrounding us in our nationally renouned Centenial Heritage district.

3 blocks from downtown expanding Grand Rapids, MI

💬 How the home of the still living founder of the Heritage Hills committee was formerly owned by the Founder and CEO of a famous Brass Detailing company that decorated houses from here to Chicago.

💬 How another house had a turntable feature to reorient the horse buggie for ease of exit, pre model T era.

💬 How a dominating two story, one of a kind garage was erected across the street, gradually overtaken by Mother Nature’s eroding winters evading an unattentive chain of owners.

💬 How I was wrong — that the heat radiators in my small garage were not for horses, but for a “warm remote start” of a model T car for the well-to-do original owner/builder of my 1909 home.

💬 How the addresses started off 10 digits apart and how the neighborhood “grew up” by the designs of visionaries no longer with us.

💬 The rightful overdue strife of the 70s were a pivot point of opennous in downtown living culture.

On and on with a rich account of yOUR beautiful history.

He was proud of his role in fighting for the small businesses as their finance support.   His name lives on across several downtown businesses for the forseeable future.

I humbly honored and affirmed each story as he verbally drew wonderful time-lapsed images across the canvas of our modern Village.   His smile widened with each affirmation.   I sensed his longtime desire to share in this way.   I believe I brought him peace through my two wide-open ears and inquisitively closed mouth.

Two of my attempts to leave felt like a teathering rope between us with him becoming my shadow.   Or was I preparing to become his?

Grumpy people rarely smile.   John never stopped smiling during this hour long exchange.   I felt blessed to witness That.

A departing gift was offered in the form of two koans.   Did he know my ability to decipher?

“You know David, the sign of true wealth, is the smallest trash can possible, sitting out front on pickup day.”  John elaborated that waste is a sign of ignorance.   I understood what he was really affirming of me.

He apparently knew i am indigenous to these lands.   Passerby glances of my subtle 4-Directions bracelet?  I pondered briefly.  Then I uttered internally before the space held by words, “He knows how we feel about Mother Earth and the Seven Future Generations value system as we consume and regnerate Her.   Wonderful!  Brotherhood knows no categories and resulting judgement.”

As he elaborated a loving definition of true wealth, I replayed the curious sneers over our shared property boundary, as I chatted with the neighbor presiding between our artificial parcels upon Her.   I knew undoubtedly in that moment, John’s was an affirming smile of honor and respect for my own Peoples’ history.   Koan received and processed fully.    Miigwetch dear brother.  🙏🏽

The second parting gift was affirming of my intent on this day.   “You know, people think I’m easily agitated — a grumpy old cus.  Try to see through the eyes of other before you judge, right?” tapping me on the shoulder to suggest “I think you’ll like this!”.  John elaborated a rather funny account of ignore-antly playful disrespect from the former owners of my own house.   Cops arriving to ticket their car, unnecessarily blocking his driveway on his homebound return trip.

He stood at the end of the driveway on that day 7 years prior, where I now stand this 21st day January 2021, about to part Ways with him forever.   His story assured me that underneath every bit of gossip, is the true Shared Reality.

Pure bliss!   Beautiful my newest dear friend.   I thank you, from that moment until my own last conversation.   May I have similar affect on That dear Heart, seeking to check my Storyline at its supposed end. ❤️🙏🏽

Rest in Peace dear John, my newest friend of shortest duration, but not in Quality.

If only humanity could collectively embrace the principle of breathing each breath and choosing each word so wisely, so as to rekindle the spirit of the persons participating in shared experiences.  Finality between storylines continuing on separate Ways, or about to end unknowingly. Perhaps that was part of his shifting smile.

Did he kNow, a secret of his remaining time?   I’m deeply honored, that he preserved final energy, for me. 🙏🏽❤️

You may not have spawned family John, but beyond a doubt, you leave many close friends, who will talk about your impact on them.

I will miss the sound of backing-up beeps from your truck.   You explained to me on this last day, how you acquired the alarm system, which made the sound even more endearing to me.   I will miss the sound of you, heading out to visit friends every afternoon, right about 2pm.   Your truck sits idle, but your heart vibrates at levels higher than we can all imagine.  This newest friend, will miss you.

His obituary …