Jerry Rosen
When we lose someone, the pain can feel utterly overwhelming—almost impossible to put into words. And that pain is even sharper when the loss comes out of nowhere, when we aren't prepared to say goodbye. There's no “right” way to move through such heartache, no roadmap for navigating this kind of tragedy.
As I reflect on my seven decades of life, I realize that surviving all this time means having known not only the joy and love that makes life beautiful but also the gut-wrenching sorrow that shakes us to our core. So what do we do in the face of this kind of loss? We remember.
We remember who that person was to us, and we honor their place in our hearts. For each of us, that memory will look different—and it should.
I met John when I started volunteering at PACC. In those first few seconds of meeting him, I knew without a doubt that we were on the same page. Our shared mission—to give homeless dogs a chance at a better life—was something that instantly bonded us. And as we walked those shelter dogs together, I saw more and more of the depth of his character. John wasn’t just helping the animals; he was the help. His calm presence, his focused attention, and his fierce compassion left a mark on every animal he encountered. They felt it. And so did we.
But it wasn't just the dogs that were touched by John’s kindness. Every volunteer who had the privilege of working alongside him could see it: the way he led with empathy, the way he made everyone feel seen and valued. He was a true class act—one of the good ones, and it’s rare to find that.
For me, remembering John will always be easy. He reminded me, in his quiet way, that being a good human matters. That each of us has the power to make a difference, no matter how small it might seem.
May his memory continue to be a blessing, a guiding light, and a reminder of the goodness in the world.
Jerry Rosen