It was lovely and heartbreaking and heartwarming and full of music and love and belonging. My sister found a video that’s a close rendition to the last piece offered up at the funeral by the Salt Lake Men’s Chorus, whom John used to play piano for.
One cousin told of her toddler granddaughter’s love for Uncle John, who came by often and taught her to love blueberries when nobody else could get her to touch them. She liked his so much that he brought them every time after that to share some with her.
She was given the little toy stuffed dog he’d cherished as a memory of his mother and promptly named it Blueberry.
She went to sleep still holding it, woke up in the morning still holding it, and with nobody having told her any such thing pronounced:
“Blueberry, Uncle John gave you to me.. It’s okay, I will take care of you. Uncle John is far away, Uncle John is up in the stars.”