Yesterday marked the anniversary of the unexpected passing last year of our friend, John Renn. So I’m re-posting what I wrote exactly a year ago as a tribute to Big John. And I’m remembering fine wine, Cuban cigars and the continuing friendship that should have been. John, you are missed.

Godspeed, my friend

We lost a good friend yesterday, suddenly and unexpectedly, and we’re unable to get our heads around it.

Most of us take a new day for granted. We expect the dawn and the rising sun. Today, though, for John Renn, there is no sunrise. And for those of us that knew him, there is a heavy, almost overwhelming sense of emptiness.

Dawn and I hadn’t known John for very long, yet he was already becoming an important part of our lives. He was big, warm, and he was someone who made us laugh, someone who shared some of life’s experiences with us. In a busy world, he always had time for people, their problems and their ideas. Everyone who knew him loved his quick wit and sense of humor. He enjoyed a joke and always had a new one to tell. He was always interested in new ideas, new discoveries. He had an open mind and a loving heart. Perhaps that’s why people enjoyed his company so much.

No one, I suppose, knows when it will be their time, but we can be grateful that John was able to spend his last day surrounded by those he loved and who loved him. We all got to say our goodbyes. And even during this difficult time, John’s sense of humor never waned. “This blows!” he told me at the hospital. Yes, John, it most surely does.

We’ll miss you, John, and we’re glad that we had the privilege of knowing you even for a short, short time.