Celebrating Brodie Johnson
Forty-eight years is not a lot of time to make a large impact on people, but that was not true of my dear friend Brodie Johnson. He had a larger-than-life personality that made an impression on everyone, and still does, through the stories and laughs we share. I believe he visits once in while, just to make sure we are still talking about him.
Brodie had a lust for life, a love for his wife and girls, an open heart, and dedication to his friends and family.
We had a bond that I can’t explain. We liked our rum, playing guitar, listening to old country, and driving our wives nuts. We were excellent at three of those four things – we were still practicing the guitar part. We could sit and have a beer in silence, and that was great too. Sometimes the best friends are the ones that don’t expect anything to happen. Just be.
Brodie could engage with anyone, anytime, and they would fall for that Johnson charm. If I could have a tenth of charisma he had, I would be thankful. Most of the friends I have in my life now are a direct result of our friendship, and for that I will be eternally grateful.
Then, one day things changed. I remember the call. Brodie was rushed to emergency surgery where they discovered glioblastoma, an aggressive form of brain cancer. Being Brodie, he did the only thing you can do when you are told of your mortality – fight the good fight and live each day to your fullest. He took trips with his wife and girls, went to concerts with friends, camping, festivals, and hockey games! We had planned a vacation in Mexico, but cancer has a way of changing plans.
Brodie lived more in his last two years than most people live in a lifetime. He never complained about the hand he was dealt. We still laughed, made inappropriate jokes, and tried to keep positive. He had a fantastic group of friends, co-workers and support network from his work at Dockyard, who were always there for Brodie, Kim, and his girls.
When Brodie was admitted to Hospice, we knew he was going to be cared for by the best. The love and respect I have for Hospice is not just what they do for those dying, it is what they do for those staying behind. They support family and friends, they let them know it’s okay. They are there for them too.
One evening, we were sitting in his room, and I snuck in a bottle of rum and a can of coke, or so I thought. But I think they were on to me. Brodie couldn’t sit up and he couldn’t move. He could squeeze your hand though to communicate, and we decided we were going to have one last drink together. He had sponge swabs to keep his mouth moist, and as I opened one of the swabs to dip into my drink for my friend, his room door opened. “I would rinse that out first. It has mouth freshener in it that will make that taste terrible,” a nurse said. Then she turned around and walked out the door.
My friend and I had our drink and sat together. And that was good.
From Brian Mitchell