My Friend Joe

My friend Joe died last week.  I couldn’t be there to offer comfort or service in person or to celebrate his life at the funeral today, so I thought I’d do the only thing I could and write about him.

I met Joe when we moved to Durham.  I was his wife’s visiting teacher for 5 wonderful years and so I was in and out of their house enough to get to know him as well.  Joe and I shared a love of photography and frequently he would tell me about new places he’d been taking pictures or best of all, when he scored a really nice tripod for just a few dollars at a yard sale.  When my camera was in the shop Joe loaned me one of his and then celebrated with me when instead of fixing my old camera they sent me a new one.

Joe had a beautiful voice.  One of my earliest Durham memories is singing in a stake cantata and getting to hear Joe sing his bass solo each time we practiced.  It didn’t matter how many times I heard it, I always loved it.  Someone told me earlier today that they sang “Far Far Away on Judea’s Plains” at his funeral.  That made me smile.  First of all because now I won’t be the first person ever to have a Christmas hymn sung at my funeral.  (Angels We Have Heard on High.  But you already knew that, didn’t you?)  And second because I can just hear Joe’s booming bass in my mind, singing the that chorus.  From now on when I sing “Glory to God in the high-est” and hear the basses come in, I’ll be remembering Joe.

When I told my kids that Joe had died they each had the same reaction.  Sadness because “He was always so nice to me.”  I was a bit surprised—I didn’t realize that that had been their experience with Joe as well.  Joe and Diane have been through some hard times in the last 7 years but I can’t think of one time when I was ever around him that it showed.  Instead he was always so kind to me.  Kind & sweet, calling me a “Heavenly Ray” (from a hymn) or telling me how young I looked.  Joe had a gift for making me feel cared about in the brief moments that we interacted and I hope I never forget how that felt. 

It makes me so sad to think that when we go visit our Durham ward in August, he won’t be there.  But I’m going to work on becoming a little more like Joe and try to notice people and do a better job of being kind in the little interactions.  Because I feel blessed to have known him.