John Phillip Johnston

Writing this obituary has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I’ve been trying to find the right words for the past week or two, and honestly, I’m not sure there will ever be words that truly do justice to what my dad meant to me.

My dad and I shared a wonderful father-and-son bond. Life took us in different directions at times, and circumstances meant that we didn’t always get to spend as much time together as I would have liked. I want everyone to understand that there is no blame, no resentment, and no ill feelings toward anyone. Life happens, people move around, and sometimes things don’t work out the way we hope they will.

One of the hardest parts of losing my dad is realizing just how many things I still wanted to know about him, and how many things I still wanted to do with him. You go through life thinking there will always be more time. More conversations, more memories, more chances to ask questions and learn about the person behind the title of Dad. Then, one day, you find yourself wishing you had just a little more time.

I wish I knew more about his life, his experiences, and all the stories that made him who he was. Because of that, I don’t want to pretend to know every chapter of his story or speak about parts of his life that I never got the chance to understand. Instead, I want to share what I do know, what I remember, and what I have learned from the people who have reached out over these past few weeks.

As a kid, I looked up to my dad. It didn’t matter if he lived differently from the average person, or if he chose a path that looked different from everyone else’s. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have a conventional job or follow a conventional lifestyle. To me, he was my dad, and he was everything.

From what I know, he was an incredible man with a wide range of interests. He was intelligent, did well in school, enjoyed sports, and had many different sides to him. Later in life, he followed a path of his own, becoming part of the biker community and pursuing tattoo artistry. His life may not have looked like everyone else’s, but it was his own, and I never stopped seeing him as the man I looked up to as a little boy.

Something that has stood out to me through all the conversations I’ve had with people who knew him is just how big his heart was. I’ve heard about a man who cared deeply about others, who checked in on people, and who tried to make others happy even when he was going through difficult times himself. It means a lot to hear these stories and to see just how many people cared about him. It reminds me that there were so many sides to my dad that I never fully got to know, and that his life touched more people than I may ever realize.

To everyone who knew him, loved him, shared memories with him, or was fortunate enough to be part of his journey, I hope you’ll help us keep his memory alive by sharing your stories. When arrangements are made for memorial gatherings in Prince George, British Columbia, and Ontario, I hope those who can attend will come together to remember him and celebrate his life. I also encourage anyone who has stories, photographs, memories, or experiences they would like to share to reach out to the family.

His mother, Vicky Lockwood, would especially love to hear those stories. Every memory, no matter how big or small, can help us learn more about the man he was and preserve the parts of his life that meant so much to those who knew him.

For me, though, he will always be my dad. No matter where life took him, no matter the choices he made, and no matter how different his path may have looked, I could still see that young kid inside him. That is the part of him I will carry with me.

I love you, Dad, and I miss you more than words can explain. I wish I had more time. I wish I had more questions answered, more stories to hear, and more memories to make. If I could have just another ten minutes with you, I would take them in a heartbeat.

I hope you’re finally at peace. I like to think that you’re reunited with some of the people we’ve lost along the way, and that there is a little happiness in knowing you may be seeing familiar faces again.

You will forever be a part of me. You will live on in the stories people share, the memories we hold close, and the love you left behind. I may not know every chapter of your life, but I know what you meant to mine.

Rest easy, Dad. You will always be loved, you will always be missed, and you will never be forgotten.

Until we meet again, take a piece of him with you. Remember him, talk about him, share your stories, and keep his memory alive.

Thank you to everyone who has reached out, shared their memories, and shown our family love and support during this difficult time.