I lost a dear friend, and fellow pilgrim on the cancer journey, last night. John died peacefully at home, free of pain, and in the arms of his beloved partner, Adrian. In his last few days he was remarkably free of the pain that had racked his body for the last several months.
John was a deep thinker, an avid reader, a gifted writer, an inspiring teacher, a good friend, a passionate gardener, and a fun and faithful partner. Others could say more, but this much, at least, I know to be true.
John and I met in cyberspace through the American Cancer Society's online support network. John, his partner Adrian, and I made a quick connection and found that we were bound in part by the common cards this dread disease had dealt us. John and I both had colon cancer that had spread to our
sacrum, the lower vertebrae of the spine, the "Holy Bone". A painful and deadly recurrence.
Our relationships grew to include personal e-mails between John, Adrian, my wife Pam, and myself. In time I called John and we began to converse about symptoms and treatment options on the phone. Finally, last April, Pam and I traveled to San Francisco, where we were met by a smiling John and Adrian at the airport (SFO), and where we enjoyed much of their company over a wonderful 5-day visit. Highlights of our visit included a roadtrip to Point Reyes park and a pizza dinner at their beautifully restored home and garden.
In addition to sharing a common ailment, John and I shared much in common in our approach to living with cancer. John engaged the experience of living with a life-threatening disease deeply. (John engaged all of the experiences of life deeply!) After much thought, wrestling, and a transformative hypnosis session, John came to the point of understanding that is best summed up in his own words...
"I cannot control the disease; I can control how I experience the disease."
John lived deeply and joyously through his life with cancer. He focused on what was "life-giving", which for John was his relationship with Adrian, his garden, his writing, his friends, and "Hogarth", John and Adrian's lively boxer. This is not to say that he did not have times of deep pain and suffering. He most certainly did, both physically and psychologically. Yet he was able to reflect on such periods, write of them, and ultimately transcend them. Where some might become embittered and resentful, John remained gracious and loving.
John shared some of his writing on the experience of living with cancer with me. His writing of this experience was detailed in its descriptions, insightful in its analysis, and graceful in its conclusions. I hope some of it finds its way to publication. It is certainly most worthy of it.
The picture of John above is not complete. It is cropped from a larger picture and a larger context...
... the context of love. I have not known John, apart from Adrian. Together they lived a rich life of creativity and love. Their home and garden is a living expression of such creativity and love.
Robert Louis Stevenson said that...
"Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but of playing a poor hand well." John was dealt a bad hand with a deadly cancer, but he played it graciously well.
God be with you John Tinker... until we meet again...
My deepest and heartfelt condolences go out to Adrian and to John's great circle of colleagues, family, and friends.
Peace and blessings... Rob; in Vancouver
"Despite all of this, we focus on good things.
As I write, Adrian and I are sipping champagne.
Hogarth is nestled up with us, and life is good."
John Tinker
