The Eulogy

Memorial Service
Loudon Park Funeral Home
https://www.loudonparkfuneralhome.com/
October 17, 2017

We are all gathered here mourning the loss of Mertosha Johnson, a husband, a father, and friend to all. As my husband for 27 years, we walked life’s journey with passion. I learned from him what it means to live for the moment. He always says, “enjoy the moments…have a good day.” When he was diagnosed with cancer in 2002 and given 6 months to live, he rejected modern medicine’s solution – chemotherapy, radiation therapy, and hormone therapy. At the very core of this rejection of possibly life-giving therapies is his concern that these interventions will unduly strain the family financially. He told me, “if I have but 6 months to live, why would I drag my family to financial ruin? I will live each day as if it were my last.”

And so, for 14 years, this slow growing prostate cancer allowed him to enjoy life one moment at a time. It bought him time to see his children go through middle school, high school, and college. He was there beaming proudly when his oldest daughter Yama and son Jared finished college. He was there when Yama earned her Masters degree and Jared completed a comprehensive training for app academy to become a computer programmer. And our youngest daughter, Natasha how he cherished the moments with her as she completed a preparatory course to Nursing and later admitted to the University of MD School of Nursing. He fought valiantly to keep the good fight to see her graduate in college as well. But life has other plans.

Last year in May, the cancer took over. It was during this time of struggle that we found each other intimately in a friendship so deep and pure. What could have broken relationships apart only made us stronger. Every step of the way, as his health continues to decline, we clung to each other. We relished the time even to grieve for the loss of life’s simple pleasures. We found strength in each other when the world seemed to get smaller. We seized life and whatever time was left, we celebrated just being together.

Mertosha learned how to walk again with assistive devices – first with a rolling walker and then only aided by assistance of one person or with a wheelchair. Before his illness, walking was our protected time to be together. As he lost the function of walking and driving his automobile, we did not stop being together. I drive him to places that gave him comfort as often as I can. We talked about our life together, our dreams fulfilled and hopes for the future. We talked about our fears and missed opportunities.

Perhaps one of the things Mertosha questioned was his choice of rejecting treatments for his cancer. I reassured him that it was pointless to argue after a choice has been made to go back in time and wonder. What would life be like if I chose door number 2? Life is short. There are no reruns, no rewind, no second do overs. This is it --- whatever outcomes those choices lead you, good or bad you embrace it. You learn from hard lessons and the experience builds your character.

I stand before you not to weep but to celebrate his life. He would not want it any other way. He wants you all to savor this moment, embrace life, and move forward. There will be no unabated tears, no room for regret, no space for depression and sorrow. Mertosha lived life according to his terms with courage, humility, friendship, and wisdom. My dearest husband, I will miss you terribly but I will continue to enjoy the moments and live each day passionately as if it were my last. Until we meet again, my friend - Mabuhay! (Long Live)