Honoring Johnny Pye - Saturday 29th August, 2pm @ Bel Marin Keys Yacht Club

Looking forward to seeing friends and meeting friends from afar coming to pay their respects to my Johnny Pye.  A few photos for you below - keep scrolling down.
See you Saturday. 

Monday 24th August, 2015

If tears could build a stairway, 

and memories a lane.

We would walk right up to Heaven

and bring you back again.

No farewell words were spoken,

No time to say "Goodbye".

You were gone before we knew it,

and only God knows why.

Our hearts still ache with sadness,

and secret tears still flow.

What it meant to love you -

No one can ever know.

But now we know you want us

to mourn for you no more;

To remember all the happy times

life still has much in store.

Since you'll never be forgotten,

We pledge to you today~

A hollowed place within our hearts

is where you'll always stay. 

-author unknown

Thank you Ashley

Saturday 29th August, 2015

Saturday 29th August, 2015
2.00pm
 Bel Marin Keys Yacht Club
No 4 Montego Key,  Novato
Dress Code: White 

 bring a photograph of shared moment(s) with Johnny
you can add to the Memory Book with your condolences

 this is not to be too sad or a gloomy affair
our Johnny lived life, embraced life with every essence of his soul,
with laughter, stories, extensive travel, fine food, fine wines,  music, 
his natural, ever creative design mind, going deep out of the box to create stunning homes 
his honest  exuberance and deep founding friendships 
we all have a bit of Johnny rubbed on us
let us celebrate and honor him together

Wednesday August 12th, 2015

Family and Friends,

We thank you for your sympathy during our time of loss.  Your gracious words are of immense comfort to Lee and I, during this sorrowful time and will not be forgotten.

We have created  a "Johnny Pye Memorial Memory Book".  Should you wish to sign, add a photograph, write a poem, a letter to Johnny, or maybe even share a special moment you had with him.    You will find the memory book and a seated area for your comfort within our courtyard of our home.  For our international friends and family, email us and we will happily add your love to the "Johnny Pye - Memorial Memory Book".


All that we ask of you, is that  you do not disturb us by ringing the bell and refrain from asking to come in.  Please understand our deepest need for privacy and quietness during this emotional time.  Thank you for your understanding and kindness.


In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to the Lustgarten Foundation for Pancreatic Cancer as per the link   Lustgarten Foundation 

There will be a Celebration of Johnny Pye's  life, a date will be determined in due time.

With kindest regards and love
Michelle & Lee 

Tuesday 11th August, 2015

Family and Dear Friends,

It is with great sadness that our darling Johnny Pye passed,  Sunday 9th August, 2015.

Please allow us privacy and quiet time in order for,  Lee and I to grieve appropriately.

With love and sadness
Michelle & Lee

Thursday August 6th, 2015

Johnny has asked me if: there can be no more visitors.
Please therefore respect his request and need for privacy and quiet time.

Thank you.

Message from the Hutchinsons - Our Scouser's from Liverpool

Dearest Johnny

This note to you is a "long LONG" time overdue, the truth is; I've never known what to say. I didn't want to say the wrong thing, put the proverbial foot in the mouth! I always wanted to have the right words of comfort and say something to make you smile. The fact is, not a day or week has gone by were you and Michelle have not crossed our minds.

This last year; I just cannot imagine what you have both gone through, I only know from the raw, heartfelt updates on the blog from Michelle (and Lee) what an emotional journey it has been thus far.

You both have AMAZING strength, fighting spirit, courage and such love for one another.

I'm sad that we lost touch with you guys after having Molly and Lucy. Having 2 young children after waiting what seemed like an eternity consumed our lives (especially being 'old' parents!!! That 'get up and go' - got up and went!!!) But I'm so happy that we got to spend so much time with you both on the many occasions we got together.

The boat cruises, countless dinners, cocktails, parties!!!

We know you have a huge network of friends and family, with much love and outpouring support and realize that it's never an imposition; No matter the time or distance, to reach out and reconnect. So PLEASE know that we love you Soooo much - You are always in our hearts and that we are here for you; and will always be here for Michelle in any way possible. All our love and prayers are with you both.

I remember kayking with you guys on one of my birthdays and picnicking at the Russian River. 

Talking of watersports - I remember how patient you were trying to teach Graham and I to waterski out on the lagoon. Try, Try, TRY as I might, I just couldn't do it! Almost.... but not quite! Graham couldn't get up either - but that's another story! I remember the afternoon parties - lazing on the lagoon on the big "floaty thingamajig" - and also the time we cruised with our past puggies - life jackets 'n' all! .... And bringing our girls over - maybe that was the first time you met Lil Lucy?! You have always been so welcoming, warm and friendly and both of you - amazing, fun and loving with the little kiddies!

Talking about first time meetings - I'll never forget your pint sized love with a personality bigger than anyone I've met!!!! - yelling across the Greenbrae parking lot to us after spotting the GB sticker on our car - funnily enough not even put there by us but the previous Russian owner?!?! Anyway! That was the beginning of our friendship - the first meeting with you at your lovely home to watch the World Cup Final!

We have such happy memories of so , SO many events with you both.

I know it's harder NOT reaching out and NOT saying anything, than not knowing what the 'RIGHT' thing to say is?

Hutchinson Family

Message from Johnny's son - Lee Carter Pye

August 2, 2015 . . .

I sit here in a chair in the corner of my dad’s lavish room, darkened by nightfall.  A single candle sits on the mantle, illuminating the room, reflecting off the full height mirrors that encompass a king size bed which sleeps my courageous dad.  Two puppies lie on the floor by his side.  Always by his side.  One of the puppies, Squeak, the boy, has an undoubted sixth sense of the pain my dad is enduring.  His tail is normally up and wagging frantically, but in this nervous time his tail points down, still, flat, between his little back legs.

My dad lies in bed in and out of a daze, sometimes while sleeping, sometimes while awake.  His breath is occasional and sharp.  Michelle darts in and out of the room, making sure my dad is ok, and comforting me.  She is strong.  She holds herself together so well and stays positive for my dad.  As she leaves the room I hear her wander further away and break down into tears.  Her staccato breaths and cries echo throughout the hollow silent house.

Michelle firms up her voice to dial hospice.  We are told to administer morphine and drops to ease my dad’s breathing.  The two puppies jump on the bed and lay down beside my dad as the four of us sit by his side ready for another four-hourly medication.  I sit down at the foot of the bed, hand on the bridge of my dad’s foot.  Michelle gently waking my dad to administer the medicine.

Medicine.  Sometimes I wonder.  Sometimes I question the medical field.  Sometimes I wonder if medicine does more harm than good.  Two years ago my dad was his happy, charming, witty, intelligent, cheeky self, life of the party, dressed to the nth degree, dancing the night away.  He was continually building the oasis that is his home and a business that has thrived for years through word of mouth for a quality and perfection of work my dad expects of himself.  So I wonder what if.  What if we skipped or reduced chemotherapy?  What if we continued as is without it?  I suspect that had we found out about the developing cancer sooner, my dad would have been on chemo sooner.  The chemo would have done its damage sooner.  My dad may have faced the stage he’s at now, sooner.

Having said that, the morphine has helped.  My dad asks for us, puppies and all, to clear the room so he can sleep.  I sit outside the bedroom door on the floor continuing my inner thoughts as I type, free-writing.  Michelle sits down in the hall across from me, trying to stay strong, playing with the puppies to lift their tails.

Every day I sit by my dad’s side, mostly in silence.  His spirits are low in the morning but gradually pick up throughout the day.  It’s as if every day he wakes up and realizes that this is not just a bad dream.  I am at a loss.  I don’t know what to say.  I don’t know what to do.  I am a man of few words.  I try to tell my dad what’s going on in my life, with my job, or talk about sports, anything to try to clear his mind.  My dad’s expression is blank, unreadable.  He could take down the World Series of Poker with his poker face.  I continue to tell stories, some new, some reminiscent.  I wonder if my dad is interested or processing.

Since I’ve grown up our conversations have always been about work hard, play harder.  My dad simply wanted to know how school or work was going, if I was out and about partying like I should, and the latest details of any ladies in my life, always wanting me carry on the lady charming he instilled in me but nothing too serious.  I tell stories.  I show him old photos of us.  I show him new photos of projects I’ve worked on, places I’ve been, and, probably getting the biggest reaction out of him, photos of girls I have dated.

Like my dad, our Virgo methodical nature and strive for perfection sometimes gets the better of us.  He has high expectations for me, never quite revealing how proud of me he is.  Like my dad, we have no problem complementing and showing complete chivalry to a lady, but never quite revealing our appreciation and admiration of each other.  I hear through others often how complimentary and proud my dad is of me, and it warms my heart.

So in a way, this is my means of expressing how I feel about him.  I can hardly muster up a word to say face to face, but I could sit and type pages on how cool, enviable, and hip my dad is, despite him still believing a fax machine is the be all end all technology.  He has a natural charm and could woo any woman tearing up the floor boards off the dance floor, leaving the muscle men in the corner wondering why their muscles aren’t working.  To this day, he still mentions going to places I’ve never heard of, seeing things I didn’t know existed, and done things I never dreamed of.  At a young 58, he has already lived twice the life of those twice his age.

I have not lost someone this close in my life.  It still doesn’t feel real.  I don’t know if I’m handling it as I should, doing what I should, saying what I should.  I process things internally and don’t show much emotion.  My dad is the same.  When we’re sat side by side, not a spoken word, I know my dad is analyzing and processing every little detail like me.  My dad will never sit at peace until he knows the million things always turning in his mind are accounted for and sorted.  Now, I know this list is shorter, the essentials.  I know his deepest concerns and natural caring nature lie within his amazing pint-sized wife Michelle and his muscley 6’3 of a son.

I try to reassure my dad that everything will be ok, especially with his rock, Michelle.  Michelle is family now, Michelle is a Pye, and Michelle will be looked after by me and the amazing friends, puppies, kittens, and support that surrounds her.  I tell my dad that Michelle will meet her little Johnny Pye grandchild one day, which I am now on the clock to deliver all of a sudden.

But the truth is, Johnny Pye lives on in us all.  He’s changed peoples’ lives and brought out the fun side of things.  Whether my dad and I are near or far apart, speak often or occasional, going through good times or tough, he’s always with me.  Even my mom says often, particularly when I pull a face, “You look just like dad then!”  To which I reply by pulling another face “just like dad”.

Normally, my writing is very structured, logically ordered.  But my mind is in chaos, random thoughts comprise my mind.  I don’t have answers.  I don’t have direction.  I don’t have a message.  I just write freely to try to put everything into context.  What can I do?  What can I say?  Don’t leave me dad . . .

Love Lee