Ghockeymom's Blog

Dear John Michael,

Such a wonderful writer you were and what an uncanny insight you had – such pleasure we gain from reading your highschool journals – or looking at the notes you took in highschool and college classes.  You wouldn’t let me throw away any of this – so glad I have it now.  I also love looking at all those German notecards you made that you also wouldn’t let me throw away.   Yes, I know someday I will have to say goodbye to them, but right now they give me comfort.

I believe that everyone needs to express themselves – and, what better way than journaling……but, I also think of those who express themselves through other artistic ways – music and art.  You loved art museums – I think your favorite was the High Museum in Atlanta, especially when they had all the works of Norman Rockwall on display.  Even with tickets, we waited in line for a couple of hours.

So, goes my story today about art……after your freshman year of college you begged me for a tattoo; I said, no, wait until you’re 21 (thinking this idea would go away).  You wanted a Celtic cross.  Two years later, I think in a joking manner, in a ski shop in Jackson Hole, Dad said why not the spider emblem from your Spider Ski Jacket – and, you said only if you’ll get a matching one.  So, you delayed your Celtic Cross and much to my dismay, you both had matching spiders tattooed on your shoulders – to share your bond of love of skiing together….and, of each other.

As October 11 neared, it was mentioned to me that Steven Curtis Chapman and his family all had tattoos in honor of his small daughter who left this life early.  I then knew that I had to carry out your wish for a Celtic Cross — but, this time on my body, intertwined with your initials.  I now wear this piece of art so proudly; although all of you resides in my heart, this cross is part of you ….my John Michael badge – a badge of courage that stands for so many things to me …… your courage as you faced the end of this life — and, my courage as I face everyday.  And, by the way, when looking up Celtic Crosses, I chose the one you seemed to love – your Celtic Cross across my back is known as the Resurrection Cross.  So smile, my sweet son…..yes, your mother gave you grief over your tattoo, but I now wear one with pride.

“He sends a Cross, but He also sends the strength to bear it.”   Leo Tolstoy

“Like a flood, His mercy rains, unending love, Amazing Grace!”

At first, I feel a need to say thank you to so many people who blessed us a year ago with their love – by standing by our side, bringing us food, taking care of our home, and sharing their memories.  But, I can’t let this day leave without writing what we witnessed when John Michael left this life.  We don’t live a day without hearing of how another young person’s life has ended too soon – in the paper, on the news, or from a friend; I look at how many soldiers’ names are listed on the Sunday morning news show.  It may seem strange to say, but we were fortunate, Skip and I……along, with a few others:  Karen, Dusty, Blair, Jessi, Kathy, Linda, and Father Macke.  For we saw John Michael’s face when he left us – he truly saw the face and touched the hand of Jesus.  John Michael was known for his beautiful, unique smile; it was that smile that shined – with a look of peace that is indescribable.  So my message today is that His love never fails.  This past year is juxtaposed with sad emotions that run so deep and hurt our heart – and, with time, we only miss him more as if he were on a trip, and we’re waiting for him to return, but in reality, we know he’s not coming home to us.  It’s been tough, with many days asking, why him?  Take me, not him.  But, the other side of this has been the outpouring of love we have received; I’ve said many times – it’s been on the wings on Angels that we have traveled this year — and, how we’ve been so blessed from the stories we’ve heard of how our son made a difference in every life he touched.  I remember when John Michael was around four.  He had spent the previous two years, staying during the day with Anna and Lewis Poe – traveling with Anna and Mrs. James to WMU meetings (Women’s Missionary Union) and anyone’s funeral that might be occurring.  Anyway, this day when he was four, I walked into his room.  He was holding his Bible, standing over his toy chest – I asked him what he was doing – he told me he was conducting a funeral.  He had shared with me not too long before that of how he couldn’t wait to get to Heaven to see all of his relatives, including those that might have been Indian Chiefs.  He looked forward to visiting with them, hearing their stories.  Maybe that was why many times during his life, he could be found visiting with older people:  at the Atlanta Airport at the age of 9, he found two older ladies to sit and eat with – discussing with them his grandparents, or maybe when I lost him at the age of 13 and he was in an elderly neighbor’s house (who had recently lost his wife), eating ice cream and watching soap operas with him, and another memory that stands out is at a nursing home in Wyomissing, Pennsylvania – he and Jimmy Everline in their cubscout uniforms, listening intently to an older man’s story.  Just a few weeks before JM left us, he was “babysitting”  an elderly man while his daughter went to the grocery store – he loved hearing his WWII stories.  When JM was around 12 or 13, I remember thinking, “I’m not going to have him long, for the Lord is going to want him for something greater.”  Those thoughts haunt me today. Maybe him getting lost in Heavner (traveling back to Tennessee from college, he called to say he was in some town called Heaven) was a sign.  So as I finishing rambling, please know there is hope, there is a Heaven for our son gave us a glimpse of what it must be like to see our Lord’s face.

Enjoy the little things in life; for one day, you’ll look back and realize that they were the BIG things!

Dear John Michael,

So many times I am asked – how do you live every day.  My first thought the first time I was asked this was “on the wings of Angels.”  I truly believe that for many days after you left, it was only through God’s grace, His spirit flowing through friends and family, and on the wings of Angels.  For as I look back on the past year, I truly don’t know how I existed – except my thoughts of your beautiful face every morning somehow kept me focusing on how incredibly blessed I am to have been your mother. As next Monday approaches, my heart gets heavier; I can’t describe this feeling…..I talked to Karen early this morning, and before I mentioned anything, she said, “we’re all feeling the heaviness of the next few days”….this part of my journey is so dark…..I’m looking for the shining light that will guides us through…..and, the light begins to shine for  Dad received a text yesterday from SJ; I talked to Dr. debi, who said “I won’t let you be alone.”  You know, she called me every single morning you were in the hospital, and then for the next six months, she never missed a morning to check in on me. You know we really wanted to be related and thought you and Lindsey would make that possible – I smile, as I wish you could see Lindsey’s face when she talks about you.  Blair is coming to spend Saturday and Sunday with us – we think we’ll make our journey to church on Sunday – our first time back; Dad wants me to make tacos…and, your fave – guacamole!  He said he might also make shakes and popcorn – remember on Sunday nights, that was his favorite – but, you always wanted more…..I’ll continue later as the light shines on………I love you

The Baby in his Jeep

This is John Michael Gore.  I love this picture because this was such a happy time for him.  He had probably just turned 17, beginning his senior year in high school.  We had taken so many pictures for his senior pictures, but this one always stood out to me.  We bought this jeep in 1983, before JM was born.  Skip had told him that when he graduated from high school – if he had good grades – that he would get a new jeep.  Well, grades were never an issue for John Michael because he loved learning.  But, when he turned 16, Skip had the blue jeep “overhauled” and turned it over to JM until he graduated – then, gave him a new red one.  But, JM was known for this blue jeep – it didn’t go over 50 miles an hour, looked cool, and fit him perfectly.  At Lincoln County High School, you were assigned a student parking number.  For some reason, (thanks Mr. Fanning?), JM had one of the front parking spots.  You could see his jeep parked on the side all the way from Walmart.  Walmart was across the street from the high school so on any given day, you would see the jeep at the high school side, my red suburban (and, then Beemer) in front of the high school, and Skip’s truck or jeep in Walmart parking lot.  As with most of our live, we were always circled together.