Beautiful, intense, deep, fierce, loving
If you ever needed the clothes off John-Paul’s back, he would not only freely surrender them, but also buy you a warm drink and a meal. His mother, Caroline, witnessed this unhesitating kindness throughout her son’s life. As a young boy, John-Paul disliked having birthday parties for himself because he felt uncomfortable receiving gifts. When Caroline suggested asking guests to bring unwrapped gifts for charity instead, he lit up. That year, he donated his gifts to a local shelter for battered women and children.
“So began his lifelong passion for helping others less fortunate than himself,” Caroline said. “The last few Christmases of his life, John-Paul asked me to buy toys with him for children in need instead of giving him any presents. I can still see him walking through the aisles, thoughtfully choosing gifts for a variety of ages and interests. It made him so happy to think about the children opening those gifts. He hoped it brought a little magic to their lives.”
John-Paul had a strong moral compass; he despised unkindness, unfairness, and hypocrisy. When someone experienced injustice in this world, it became his personal responsibility to right it. This mindset reflected John-Paul’s philosophical nature. Caroline shared: “He couldn’t have a conversation without imploring you to think a little broader, a little deeper, and more out-of-the-box.” If John-Paul had the opportunity to complete college, she speculated he would have majored in philosophy.
His charisma and kindness made him well-respected and deeply loved by family, friends, members of his support groups, and strangers he encountered even just once. His siblings all cherished their relationships with him–Amanda, who inspired his good nature; Sarah, his clever partner in crime; James, whose gentleness renewed John-Paul’s faith in the goodness of people.
John-Paul struggled with substance use disorder for fourteen years. During that time, something shifted in him that was hard for his loved ones to witness.
“He wasn’t as joyful. It was hard for him to be calm and satisfied,” Caroline said. “He tried so hard to fight this disease. He told me he often had nightmares about using again–it always haunted him.”
For his loved ones, knowing that John-Paul was as hurt by these fears as they were was devastating. A glimmer of hope arose when John-Paul arrived at a recovery home in New Hampshire after battling addiction for ten years. He set his sights on helping those around him: he became a certified personal fitness trainer and health coach, and chaired multiple support groups. Fewer fought harder than he did to save the lives of those around him. It didn’t matter if that meant knocking down a public restroom door to deliver overdose reversal medication, or searching nonstop until he located a missing recovery house resident using only his smart phone.
John-Paul called his mother every evening as part of his own recovery journey. “He told me that it was an attempt to make up for the many years that I often didn’t know where he was, or if he was okay. He said that although he had never stolen anything material from me, he knew that he had stolen time from me that could not be returned, and that is what he regretted the most.”
Caroline misses her son’s beautiful presence, his deep thoughts, and his warm hugs. When she encounters those who are struggling, she imagines how John-Paul would treat them, and lets his compassion live on through her actions.
John-Paul’s mother, Caroline Mercier, provided the information for this narrative.
September 28, 1988-March 8, 2021–Age 32
Portrait Artist: Jeremy Hebbel
Narrative Writer: Angela Day
