John Myers

This is going to be a non-traditional obituary, because John was a non-traditional kind of guy.

We lost our sweet boy on October 12th, 2020, in a death by suicide. We reject the shame and stigma that often come with losses by suicide - because if there is one thing we all know about John, it’s that John gave all he had to everything that he did, and he fought courageously and diligently his whole life to stay here with his loved ones; to experience adventure and life; and to bless others with his spirit of humility and selfless giving.

During his years of service in the Navy, John was consistently regarded as the ‘go-to’ person for any type of repair or fabrication that seemed impossible - in one of his Navy Achievement Medals, his Commanding Officer wrote that John was the ‘ship’s [USS Essex, carrying over 1600 sailors] most valuable craftsman.’ He was awarded and recognized for the mentorship he gave others; his teaching spirit; his organizational ability; but most of all, for the quality of everything he did. In everything he did, John did it well — and he loved people well, too.

John was so giving of his time and talents, but in a very quiet and unassuming way — there were few things he loved more than being able to help friends and family with projects they were working on... he could fix or make anything. When anyone would marvel at his ability or thank him for his hard work, his typical response was “oh, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” His humility overwhelmed his ability to see how exceptional he was.

All of us will remember John for his mechanical genius, his MacGyver-ingenuity, his love of cars (particularly 3rd-generation 4runners and his beloved Supra, and ‘66 Chevy), and for those who knew him closely, his golden heart. John never lost his childlike sense of excitement — when he would build or fix something, his enthusiasm for immediately showing someone was so pure and wholesome. I can’t tell you the number of times I ran out to his garage with him in my pajamas, because he had just built something new, or figured out an issue that had been vexing him on his truck, or had made something for me.

John and I had an incredibly chance meeting through a mutual friend back in 2010, and were in a relationship from almost the moment we met. I felt like I had known him for a lifetime. One thing that I always admired and appreciated so much about John is how dutiful he was... no matter what he did, he did it dutifully and faithfully, and whatever I did, I did whimsically and faithfully, which made us a great balance and match. We were best friends, and we did nearly everything together.

One of the most important parts of the love we share is for our dogs, whom we love and care for like children — but we also shared a deep love of adventuring together, traveling together, sharing our morning coffee, cuddling on the couch to watch our favorite TV shows, and just being goofy together. We shared an absurd sense of humor, and I loved being able to make him laugh.

It’s very difficult for me to talk about John in the past-tense, because I feel his presence still, so tangibly — shrugging off the praise I’m heaping on him here, just like he did in life — and I hope his presence stays tangible for all of the many, many people whose hearts are heavy with grief and mourning over this great loss.

For all of the light and comfort John brought into the world for others, John was burdened heavily for himself, carrying the weight of depression, alcoholism, and other kinds of loss that made it very hard for him to keep going every day. And that is why I refuse the shame of his death by suicide, because I know how valiantly he fought to stay, even through his darkest times. That fight that he put in was not wasted — it allowed him to experience the deep love of his chosen family, who cherish him to the depths of their being; to have adventures like driving through the Alaskan wilderness in December; completing wildly difficult off-roading trails; holding newborn babies in the hospital; building deep, lifetime friendships; holding a dying friend in his arms as his soul transitioned; and experiencing, what he described as, a once in a lifetime love story.

Please remember John — remember him when you are in any of his sacred places: with close family, playing games, eating together, sharing warmth and stories and love; adventuring in the outdoors; in the garage, working on a project... or when you’re deep in prayer with the one you love, which was his most sacred place — his sanctuary. Take his memory and his light with you, and share it. Tell stories about him, share pictures of him... spread his light, and love people well, and fully, with all you have.

John is survived by his forever wife, Peche; his dog-children, Carl, Calvin, and Charlie; his chosen family, father and mother-in-law John and Valerie Toney; sisters and brothers-in-law Brittany and Chris Pace, and their children Natalie, Aidan, and Audrey; Jericha and Rodrigo Sanchez, and their children Beyla, Gavin, and Priya; Jenai and Aaron Volesky; Tianna Toney; and his Grandma-in-law, whom he always just called “Grandma.”

He is survived further by many loving friends — David and Anna Mitchell, Sean Dolan, Mark and Bridget Nava — and so many more that it would be impossible to name. He will be missed and mourned deeply by neighbors, co-workers, and the thousands of shipmates he honorably served alongside (3 different crews on 4 different ships).

Rest peacefully and with the Lord, our sweet John Matthew Myers.

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John’s ashes were interred at Fort Logan National Cemetery on November 12th, 2020. An additional celebration of John’s extraordinary life will take place at an as-yet-determined date.