Email Sent to Jon 6/24/2023

Jon-

I wish I was better with words, like you. Articulating the jumbled mess of feelings I have is difficult because it’s so mixed up with my memories.

I can say that I am so thankful that the Olathe School District allowed us to meet. I am thankful for all the stupid teenage crap we did together that somehow didn’t end in tragedy or disfigurement, but gave me fun memories. That senior prom where we all ended up back at my apartment just hanging out. The nights driving the back roads of JoCo after you all got off work at the Jumping Cockroach.

I feel grateful that you moved to Florida and took care of me when I was too drunk to take care of myself. Knowing you would always come pick me up at 0200 when the bar closed. You not judging me (at least to my face) when I made you stop so I could vomit in some bushes by that church. And helping me get the correct perspective after I beat the hell out of that dude who slapped me.

I feel incredibly lucky you trusted me to read your books first for so long. Us sitting together, editing in my house, while eating amazing BBQ or fried chicken. And I will forever have Captain Dave on my shelves, so I can hear your voice whenever I want to.

Thank you for that last trip. Watching you with Sofya, loving and teasing her was amazing. Knowing this perfect little person who contains the best parts of you and Xtina is walking the earth gives me comfort.

I appreciate you bringing Xtina to my life. I could make a joke about know how I don’t know how you caught such a smart, cultured, and fun person to share your life with, but I do know how. Because you have always drawn interesting, funny, and smart people to you because of who you are.

There are a million memories that make me, me. And Jon, you are there at the foundation. I wouldn’t be me without having known you, and that means for as long as I live, I have you with me.

None of us know how much time we have, although some of us have a better idea than others. My hope for you is that for the time you have left, you can laugh and play poker, and have some comfort and peace.

That’s all just to say, I love you. And like I said on the airboat, you have to accept affection from me because I am a girl and to reject it would be unchivalrous, which you would never be.

KT

Letter sent to Jon on 7/12/2023 

Dear Jon,

Marcus has shared with us that you have entered hospice care. We are so sad to hear that your struggle against cancer may be nearing the end. Perhaps it is a relief to you; we as health professionals know that the pain and seemingly endless treatments can be exhausting. Our hearts grieve with your wife and daughter.

Thank you for being such a good friend to Marcus. I have to smile when I think about you because of the many good memories, such as the time you helped us move to Georgia. You, Marcus, Paul, and Noogey rode together in the pickup truck pulling the horse trailer, while Seán, three cats, and I went in the car. You kept a good attitude and worked hard, as always. Who knows? The wonderful reward of getting to go to the Gulf Coast beach afterward may have influenced your decision to live in Florida all these years later.

Paul greatly appreciated your help putting up hay on our Olathe farm—such an awful, hot, hard job. You again had a good attitude, saying it helped build muscles. He still tells the story of when you worked as a groom for him at polo games. You would walk up to a horse, introduce yourself, and say, “Hello, Brownie (or whatever name), I’ll be your groom today.”

Who could forget that terrible wintry morning when you and Marcus had to appear in court to answer to the false charges of reckless driving? We all believed you two, not the police officer who mistakenly thought you were driving and charged you with intentionally aiming the car toward her baby. On the advice of the lawyer, though, you and Marcus humbly entered a plea of “Guilty,” endured a stern and undeserved lecture by the judge, and put the incident behind you.

You have never been one to let tradition or conformity determine your style. Your off-the-wall sense of humor tickled us. To this day, Paul doesn’t refer to our cat as a kitty, but as a “puppy cat,” which you started.

I could go on, but want to end with a word of hope. I have been praying for some time that you will have peace in this process, regardless of the outcome. You have every right to feel whatever you feel. I pray that the God of peace will give you calm, rest, and comfort. He did not cause your cancer, knows it’s not fair, and wants to comfort you through it.

Love and prayers, Marvel Williamson