
John Wickham, S.J.
He took me on a most intriguing survey of the whole history of English Literature. He taught me to read in context, to relish the turn of phrase and to travel with imagery. He took me to my first experience of Shakespeare, William Hutt in Richard II at Stratford. He taught me rhetoric. And most importantly he taught me a phrase I keep trying to learn, “Murder your darlings!” – when writing or speaking, be free enough to delete what you love most for the good of the whole piece. John Wickham was the best teacher I ever had, and I had excellent teachers all through my schooling.
Though John died on July 7, 2010, surrounded by fellow Jesuits and many nephews and nieces, I know that John Wickham is still here. Nobody can take him away. He has marked me. In the “Communion of Saints” he still takes interest in how I am understanding what I read. He is still interested in my writing style (and praying that it will continue to improve). But now he is interested more in my “living style”. Having completed his journey with and to God, he is still here teaching me not just turns of phrase, but what turns to choose in life. John is still here. He will always be here.
John suffered from Alzheimer disease during the last 5 years of his life. At the end of his life, he could not walk, could not talk, and could not feed himself. He always smiled beautifully, but towards the end, I wondered, “Is this smile a response, or is it an un-chosen facial reaction?” To see John so feeble, so unlike his witty, insightful and creative self was so very disappointing. But what Lisa Genova tells us in Still Alice is that he is still John Wickham. Yes, the mind and the body have been severely damaged, but his spirit was still there. John could still love and receive love. John was still there behind that smile.
The image of John, my very best teacher in College, continues to show me that all who are diminished and maybe severely ravaged by illness, ageing, accident or mistakes they have made, are still… The invitation and the challenge to all of us is to look beyond, to look deep down, to look past the glazed eyes and to see the goodness still there. The call is to continue loving and receiving love from those who seem so changed, so far away, so far gone. Though no longer the same, John Wickham is still the same person, my very best teacher. Once again, I am reminded, that “only three things last – faith, hope and love. And the greatest of these is love.”