jj's eulogy

8/13/2019 JJ's Eulogy

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/jjs-eulogy 1/3

1

“JJ’s Dash”

Funeral Mass at St. Anthony of Padua

April 6, 2013

Joseph John (J.J.) Marino

June 16, 1989 – March 31, 2013

My name is Lisa. By blood, I am JJ’s cousin. By blessing, I am his godmother. Most days, he just called me “Auntie.” I’m awed by what I witnessed yesterday. We left the funeral home at nearly 11:00 p.m. after hundreds of family

members, friends, co-workers and some people we don’t even know by name , paid their respect to Joseph John (or as

we were told to call him on the day he was born – “J.J.”) Marino.

People waited hours to see JJ’s family, to share a funny “Jage” story or to simply kneel down and pray before him.

Police helped with traffic. Printers produced more holy cards. The funeral home shuttled guests from nearby parking

lots to accommodate a massive crowd. Guests commented that they had attended wakes of fallen police officers, local

politicians or active service members, . . . but they had never seen a turnout like the one they saw yesterday for JJ.

Fortuna’s funeral home was clear that was the largest wake they ever held. One neighbor actually called the funeral

home to see if a celebrity or some important person had died.

There is a very famous poem called “The Dash.” The poem itself talks of a man who spoke at a friend’s funeral. During

his speech, the man references the dates on his friend’s tombstone. The man notes that first came the date of his

friend’s birth and then the man speaks with tears of the fol lowing date – the date of his friend’s death.

The poem goes on to say that what mattered most of all was the dash between those two years . . . In terms of size or

appearance, the dash rarely changes. The dash between a man who lives to be a hundred is similar in length and width

to the dash between the dates of a man who lives only to be 23. The difference in the dash is the meaning attached to

it. As the poem goes,

“[The] dash represents all of the time a man spends alive on earth. And now, and only now --- after the mandies --- do those that loved him know what that little line is reallyworth.”

If you would have asked me one week ago, “what was J.J.’s dash?” – I’m not sure I would have given the correct answer.

In the past week, I have actually learned more about JJ’s life through his death. Like the travelers on the road to

Emmaus, I am not sure I recognized the young man that walked with me.

I think most of you gathered here today, know the story of what happened. JJ was returning from a Spring break trip in

Panama City, Florida when the car he was a passenger in was hit by a truck on Interstate 65. Traffic was tied up for

hours as emergency crews arrived at the scene to transport J.J. by helicopter to a hospital in Alabama where he was

quickly joined by his mother, father, brother and sister. The news we received on Saturday night was bad. By Sunday

morning, it had turned tragic. And, by Sunday evening, JJ as we knew him was gone.

But, what you may not know is this:

Complete strangers – travelers -- from places like Alabama, Maryland and Oregon -- who were stuck on I-65 in

the resulting traffic, got out of their cars and rushed to JJ and his companions. They held his hand, said his

name and prayed for his safety. He was never alone.



2

The young men traveling in the car with JJ did the right thing . They called JJ’s father as soon as the accident

occurred which allowed us to travel to Alabama on Saturday. Their courage in calling JJ’s dad is only trumped

by the compassion they showed each of us by staying at the hospital with us until after JJ had passed on Sunday

Please know that while we say goodbye to JJ today, we do not say goodbye to these young men. They are now

an inextricable part of our life.

I want you to know that, JJ died as he lived – surrounded by his family and friends. With his cross and St.

Joseph’s medal around his neck, JJ was wrapped in his mom’s arms as his father, sister, brother, aunt, uncle,cousin and godparents remained with him whi le and long after he passed. His dear friends flew from Cleveland

and joined others waiting at the hospital until the inevitable occurred. Hours after JJ had passed, the Padua

Franciscan family, JJ’s high school home, held a prayer service in his memory. The Kent State University

community followed with a prayer vigil on Tuesday night.

We are forever grateful. I am saying what so many of you probably already know – JJ has a tremendous group o

friends – at the risk of leaving anyone out, I just cannot say enough about friends like Chris, Danny, Antonio,

Nader, David John, John David and Estro, and so many others who have gone above and beyond anything we

could imagined.

J.J.’s favorite toast, I mean quote, was a simple one . . .”many ships have sailed the sea, but the best ship is

friendship.” Gentlemen, you proved that quote true.

Many of you already know that the Lord called JJ home on Easter Sunday. That fact alone is a reminder of how

special JJ was in God’s eyes. We all hope to rise one day to be with the Lord. Few of us actually rise WITH him

The last thing I want you share with you about JJ’s death is a story that we have been lucky enough to share all

week. By Sunday late morning, it was clear that we were going to lose JJ. A Catholic priest anointed JJ and

forgave his sins. The good and caring staff at the Alabama hospital supported our needs and request to remain

with JJ. We also discussed the option of donating JJ’s viable organs. The transplant coordinator, a man named

Fred, sat with us to discuss our options – while JJ sustained massive head injuries many of his major organs

remained intact. JJ’s mom and dad actually signed the papers consentingto donate JJ’s organ. And, with that,

Fred began what was a time-sensitive and coordinated process to ensure JJ’s organs could be shared when the

time was right.

About an hour later, we more fully understood the process to donate organs. JJ, who was on a ventilator,

would need to remain on the ventilator until after his organs were removed so that the organs could remain

viable. He would have died with the good surgeons at Baptist Medical Center in Alabama. Stated another way,

JJ’s last breathes would have been without his mother or family at his side.

If you know my beloved aunt, JJ’s mom, you know that some could describe her as “slow” to make a decision –

maybe even indecisive. When she learned that JJ would leave the world without her at his side, she said no. A

woman who rarely makes a decision said no. She told the nurses. She told Fred, the transplant coordinator.

After signing the papers, she said no.



3

Aunt Sand, I have never witnessed a more courageous act and I have never been more proud to call you my

Godmother.

As many of you have heard, when JJ died, a rainbow appeared outside the hospital. The picture you see on the

back cover of your program is the picture of that rainbow. The picture was actually taken by Fred, the

transplant coordinator, who came up to JJ’s room minutes after JJ passed and the man to whom JJ’s mom said

“no.”

I continue to believe that the rainbow is JJ’s way of telling us he is okay -- that rainbow is our bridge to JJ. What

you may not know, is that I continue to believe that God choose Fred as his messenger – God allowed Fred – of

all people -- to capture that image to remind all of us that JJ’s mom that she made the right choice.

When JJ’s mom, my godmother, asked me to deliver J.J.’s eulogy I worked hard to assemble some of the more “classic”

JJ stories. Please trust me, the stories are abundant. After yesterday’s wake, I stopped that work. There is no story, no

andedoct, no tweet or nor quote that could say more than what was said by yesterday’s wake. Suffice it to say, JJ’s was

his sister Allyson’s baby “brudder.” Michael’s playful, yet perpetual, agitator. JJ was his father’s best friend.

And, probably most importantly, he was his mother’s sunshine. Together, they both always choose to walk on what I

like to call, “the sunny side of the street.”

From the beginning, JJ loved life. He loved people. He loved his family. And, yes, he loved hockey. It was that simple.

His Parma and Padua hockey days were amongst his best. While he loved the game and was talented on the ice, we

have seen that the lasting ties that bind the community of hockey players is really what survives when the last puck is

dropped or the last horn sounds.

So, I end where I started. What was JJ’s dash? I ask that you not measure it by how he died, but I ask you to look at

how he lived. I also ask that you not measure it by years --- as if you do the math alone you come up short. Rather, I

ask that you count the smiles he shared, the memories he made and the friends that paid tribute to him today and

yesterday.

I ask that you pick up your program and look with me at the front cover. As your eyes move to the bottom, I ask you

don’t focus on the day he was born or the day that he died, I ask that you focus on the dash between the two dates. I

hope you know now the real meaning of that dash.

As I was getting ready to leave the funeral home last night, a friend shared that a neighbor had called the funeral home

to see “what important person had died?” Like the travelers on the road to Emmaus, the caller had seen the people,

the shuttles, the deliveries and was starting to hear the stories --- and, caller was most certain the person inside was a

celebrity or a famous person of some sort. Who was that important person? He was Joseph John Marino – we called

him J.J. – and yesterday, we all witnessed his dash.

Always,

Auntie

Lisa Ruda – April 6, 2013

(Please ignore the typos or misspellings as this is the best available draft

jj's eulogy

Documents