Thank You For Being Perfect, John by Meredith Gaudreau

Hi John,

Do you remember the day we met?

I do.

The summer of 2018, in Avalon. I had just finished a shift at the Children’s Hospital, and I was sitting on the couch with Kingy lying at my feet. Do you remember how scary looking everyone thought he was? I was with him, just exhausted from my shift. I was in my sweats. Tyler was having a birthday party and you know how my sister is, she wanted to have everyone over. They’d take one look at me and Kingy and head upstairs to see everyone. I remember there was this knock on the door, so I got up and went to answer it. And it was you. You had those little brown eyes, and a fohawk. And you just kind of looked at me for a second.

“Hey. I’m Johnny.” You said. 

I said, “Hey, your friends are all upstairs.”

I went back to the couch and sat with Kingy. Tyler came down and started guilt tripping me into coming out with everyone. But it’s my birthday!!!! COME ON, YOU GOTTA!!! I really didn’t want to go. I was just beat from my shift and the hour-and-a-half drive back to Avalon. But Tyler had this way about her, and I gave in. We all went to the one bar in town, The Princeton. I wasn’t drinking. I was trying to keep tabs on all the girls and everything that was happening. But it was a huge bar and there was so much going on. I remember how everyone gravitated toward you. Everyone wanted to be near you. To see you. And I was like, Who is this guy? I didn’t know a thing about you. Do you remember ordering 40 vodka sodas for everyone? You handed me one. I think the only thing I said to you that night was, “Thank you.” 

But without words, you said so much to me.

I just got to see you and to see the way people saw you.

And a few days later, I saw you were still in town.

Between my shifts we got to know each other. Remember how you didn’t even know where the beach was? And it was like right there? I took you down on our bikes, and we looked at the ocean. We got lunch. We talked about Kingy and Bailey and you told me about a place called Calgary. I’d drive to Philadelphia for my night shifts. Seven at night to seven in the morning. I’d come home, sleep for as short as I could, then I’d go find you. We’d hang out all day. I showed you every corner of Avalon. You were so quiet. It seemed like you’d barely speak when we’d hang out. You were so shy. I’d always look forward to your text when I’d leave for work.

 “Miss you. Come back.”

Eventually I learned all about hockey, and how you were a good player. Sorry, John — but my first thought was, Really? You’re not much bigger than me…. But when I learned about your work ethic, about your passion for the game, it all sort of made sense to me. One of the first nights after we hung out I went to YouTube. I typed in “johnny gaudreau hockey,” and there you were. There were all these people in red, in Calgary, and you were their guy. I couldn’t believe it. 

You were just John to me. The shy boy from the house next door who was afraid of the Atlantic Ocean. The boy who hated to sleep alone at night.

Do you remember when we were at your house in August, and your dad was watching TV? “Top 10 Forwards for the 2018-19 NHL Season,” or something. And he was giving you a hard time for being ranked eighth, I think. They started playing highlights of you, and I just glanced at the TV and said, “John, is that you?” And you always did this, you said, “No.” I was like, “But that’s….” And you did that voice, the one you’d use to play pranks on me, and said “No, that’s not me, let’s go to the beach.” Maybe you were just having fun with me, or maybe you just wanted to be humble. But I think when we were together, you just wanted to be yourself. And me to be myself. So we spent hours and hours like that.

Just you and me. John and Meredith. Just us. 

I went to the hospital one day, that first summer, bags all under my eyes. Tired from skipping my pre-shift naps to be with you. And one of my friends looked at me and said, “Meredith, what have you been up to? You look exhausted.”

I told them I met someone. And I told them I was going to marry him.

Courtesy of the Gaudreau Family

That summer, when you got to know my family … I cherish those memories so much. I remember telling you about how much we loved Avalon. How we spent so many summers there. It’s such a special place to me, and I’m so happy I met you there, John. I’ll always think of you when I’m there, and I’ll always think of Avalon when I think of you. And I know that the same thing goes for one of the most important places we ever spent time in, Calgary.

Gosh, do you remember my first trip there? How I had to ask my mom where my passport was? Because I had never been to Canada…. We had to check that it wasn’t expired. I landed in Calgary and I didn’t know what customs were, or why my cell phone wasn’t working, or how I’d ever find your friend to pick me up. I was so worried, and then I remember looking at this billboard and there you were, number 13, in your Flames jersey. The coolest guy in town. 

I was thinking, What in the world…….. Where am I? 

You had a game that night, so your friend dropped me off at your condo. You were already at the rink. I got changed and hurried over. I just went to the main entrance. I didn’t know there was a specific player’s entrance or anything like that. I was like a lost dog. You scored a goal. You were the first star of the night. I saw hundreds of people in GAUDREAU jerseys. It was all so surreal. 

After the game you called me and I was lost again. I was in the concourse waiting for you and couldn’t figure out how to get down and find you. “What am I supposed to do, John? Just tell them I’m here to see Johnny Gaudreau?!” We both laughed about it and went for a drink that night. You didn’t say a thing about the game. You just wanted to hear about my day, about me. The coolest guy in town. Coolest guy in the world.

You loved Calgary so much. And I loved that about you. You were so proud to be a Flame. You showed me around town with a big smile on your face. All your favorite spots, your favorite people. I liked hearing all the Alberta accents — it still cracks me up to this day. I think we walked every inch of that city together. Pretty soon I fell in love with it, too.

When I’d get three or four days off you’d always text, “Why don’t you come see me?” And I’d be like, “You really want me to come all the way across the continent?” And you’d say, “I miss you.” And then I’d be there. Back on a plane. Back in Calgary. Back in your arms. 

That’s how it went for a while. I was still working at the NICU in Philadelphia and the travel was a lot. But it was also the best. COVID changed our plans with all the restrictions. You went into the bubble in Edmonton 2020. I stayed home. I watched all your games on my phone during my shifts. The other nurses would always walk by, “How’s he doing?? Go Flames!!!” You came home toward the end of August. You drove straight from the airport to the hospital to come see me on my break. We sat outside for 30 minutes. It had been so long since I’d seen you, and I remember how nice it was just to be with you again.

We made plans for dinner the next night. I got off my shift at seven the next morning and drove straight to your parents’ in New Jersey. I just wanted to see you. We drove down to Avalon, and the weather was crazy. Do you remember all that rain?? We could barely see through the windshield wipers. I grabbed your hand in the car. We got there and I was so tired from work that I just wanted to go home and take a nap. You were acting a bit strange, trying to keep me from going home. Saying it was going to clear up soon and we could go eat on a patio somewhere. But I was exhausted. You were right, though, it did clear up. So we went to the beach after dinner. We walked along the water. We were talking about how I was going to come to Calgary with you. It was a big decision for us. The border was closed, and if I didn’t move in with you, I’d basically never see you that next season. I knew it was the right choice. But it was still scary. My whole life was on the east coast. 

On the beach, you said, “Do you know how much I love you?”

“Yes, I love you, too.”

You said, “Do you know I can’t wait for you to come to Calgary with me?”

“Yes, I’m excited.”

Then you grabbed my hand, and got down on one knee.

And you said, “I have one more question.”

Courtesy of the Gaudreau Family

We did our Pre-Cana in Calgary. And I’m so happy we did. Because when I look at our marriage certificate now, and it says that we completed the religious aspect through the Diocese of Calgary, that means a whole lot to me.

Do you remember the week before our wedding? All the rain? The Schuylkill flooded, and it just poured for days. But come Saturday, the day of our ceremony, it was the most beautiful sky I’d ever seen. Just a gorgeous day. And to see everyone there for us, despite how hard it still was to travel … I’m so thankful for them. Friends and family and teammates from Calgary, from Boston College, from Jersey and Philly and all over. Sharing that day with them is one of my favorite memories.

It was a perfect day, John.

You were perfect.

My dream guy.

Two months later, we were back in Calgary, FaceTiming with my sister Frances and her first baby, Emma. You were looking at how cute she was. And later that day you looked at me and said, “I wouldn’t mind a little one.” I was like, What…… we just got married! But you knew what you wanted, and I knew you were going to be the best dad ever. Two months later, on my 30th birthday, January 20, I found out I was pregnant. I’ll never forget the look on your face. You were beaming.

That summer you made one of the biggest decisions of your life. I was 36 weeks pregnant, and I was huuuuuuge. But we had to decide where we were going to live, where we were going to raise our baby. Your contract was up, and you had to think about your career and your family and your legacy in Calgary. And I know how hard it was on you. You weren’t eating like usual, you barely slept. I’d feel you leave the bed at night and go to think about it. You loved being a Flame. I know that. And you knew how painful it would be to leave. I kept telling you, “Whatever you choose, John, I will be happy.” I told you I loved Calgary, too. And how fortunate I felt to even be in this position, how lucky we both were. You knew that. You told me it was our choice. I appreciated that. It was hard on us both that we didn’t get many visitors. We missed our families so much. It was difficult to get to Calgary for our siblings with their kids, and our parents with their grandchildren. COVID just made it worse. And family meant everything to you.

It was one of the hardest decisions we ever made.

Calgary will always — always — be a part of who we are.

When we moved to Columbus, though, we got one of the most precious gifts in the world. Time. Just time with our families. They could come down in a few hours to watch you, or just to see our kids.

Do you remember how teary-eyed you got when we had Noa? September 30, 2022, and she had you wrapped around her finger right away. You were inseparable from the moment you saw her. All those tears pouring down your face. You loved her so much, so fast. Your season started a few days later, and Noa never missed a single home game of yours. Not even one. She loved watching you. She knew where the tunnel was to see you come on and off the ice. We’d stay after the game, way past her bedtime, in the family room. There was the toy area where she’d play and wait for you. You’d come up with your teammates and roll around on the floor with her. As she got older, we’d watch your road games, and she’d point at the TV, “Dada! Dada! Dada!” And from her crib, she’d chant “CEE-BEE-JAY! CEE-BEE-JAY!” She was such a smart little baby. I think she knew more about you than we both understood. She was your biggest fan. Biggest.

And you were hers.

You were the best dad. You were so attentive. Maybe a little nervous, even. I remember you going into her room to check on her. You “just wanted to make sure she was breathing.” And I was like, She’s breathing, John, don’t worry. You changed diapers, you cleaned spit-up, you took her when she cried — you did it all. It was all so natural to you. You were so gentle, so loving. You were amazing. She was a daddy’s girl. She still is. 

You would be so proud of who she is now, John. I promise. I promise.

And she loves her brother, Johnny Jr. She wasn’t even a year-and-a-half when we had him. I don’t know who was more excited for him to be here, you or Noa. Your sister has two daughters, my sister has two daughters, and we had Noa, so it was really an all-girl family. And we didn’t know if we’d be having a boy or girl, so when we saw him…. You leaned into me and said, “I can’t believe you gave me a boy.” You said it over and over again. It was so sweet. I can still hear you saying that when I look at Johnny Jr.

Remember all the little outfits you bought him? The hockey onesies and the mini-sticks and all the Blue Jackets gear? Some cheesy stuff that said “Eat, sleep, hockey” on it. You loved it all. You wanted to be the best hockey dad. You were going to make sure Johnny was a great player. I just know it.

It was amazing how we started our career in Columbus together with no kids … and then it’s like all of a sudden we were walking out of the rink, each of us with a baby in our arms.

I loved that so much.

Courtesy of the Gaudreau Family

Our lives were so full — and last summer at Jamie’s rehearsal dinner, I was chatting with Katie and she was like, “I think … I think you’re pregnant again. And I was, but I didn’t want to tell anyone yet. I hadn’t even told you. I said to her, “No, no, I’m not!!! Trust me, I’m not.” You were right next to me overhearing the entire conversation, but keeping quiet. In the parking lot as we walked to our car to drive back to Avalon you said, “What was that all about? What you said to Katie.…” You knew me so well and when I was lying. I looked at you, and your face went from pure shock to beaming again to disbelief to pure shock and beaming again. “Get over here, Reg!!” And you started hugging and kissing me so happily. “Three??? Are we nuts?? You’re nuts, you know that!?” 

And I told you later that I was lying to her, and you started beaming. In my head I couldn’t believe we were about to have three kids under three. It seemed like so much for us to handle. I was scared. But your face, John. Your face in that moment told me all I needed to know: that it was going to be OK. That we were going to be the best little team ever. 

That was August 22.

And a week later I woke up, and you were downstairs with the kids. Letting me sleep in a bit knowing I was pregnant again. You were feeding Noa and Johnny breakfast. I walked into the kitchen and said, “Hey, today’s the day. August 29. Four years ago.” Four years since the day you’d gotten down on one knee and asked one more question.

“I know,” you said, and you smiled so big.

You came over and kissed me.

And we all just hung out that morning.

Big little team. 

It was going to be a great day. We had a lot to do with the kids but we were going to get it done because the wedding was the next day. You were heading out to play golf with Matthew and all the groomsmen. You had our car packed to the brim in perfect Tetris fashion. Things for the wedding, things for Columbus, things for Johnny’s christening. You kissed all of us goodbye and said you’d see us later. And that was that. 

Katie called, and she said something had happened but she didn’t know what exactly. My dad drove me over to your parents’, and I was thinking the whole time about how I was going to help you through whatever it could be that had happened to Matty. And then I walked up the front porch and learned the absolute worst had happened and that it was both of you.

There aren’t any words to go here. 

I was in shock. I was keeled over for days sick to my stomach. It’s completely indescribable. The only person who can relate to me is my own sister-in-law. I see her and my heart breaks for her. I’m sick for her. We had just celebrated their gender reveal. We were all just down the shore together and had so much fun. Matty made me laugh so much that weekend. 

I thought of our baby inside of me. I couldn’t stand up. I was awake and having nightmares. Thinking of you in that moment. Thinking of Matty. It’s just the worst thing I could have ever imagined. And in an instant, I missed you more than I knew was possible. And I haven’t stopped missing you since. That feeling never goes away. I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I miss you every second of every day. I miss you more and more every day as well. My love grows deeper for you each day too. 

To go from getting ready for a beautiful wedding all week with your sister, to being in a funeral home with Madeline trying to figure all these things out — it just hurt so much. It was weird and it was awful. I had to go to the doctor for our third baby. The first of my appointments where you weren’t holding my hand. 

I looked at Noa and baby Johnny and I felt a pain that I hadn’t felt before. Our two babies who have to grow up without their dad, without their amazing uncle. 

I don’t know.

What was I supposed to do without you?

There were so many people around to help me and Madeline. We had a lot of support. And I appreciated it more than I could say. The hockey world, the sports world, they showed up for us, too. To see people go from just knowing about “Johnny Hockey,” to hearing about how amazing of a father you were, of a person you were? I know that’s what would have mattered to you. You never cared if someone thought you were a good or bad player, you just wanted them to know you as John, Noa and Johnny’s dad. I laugh seeing your old social media accounts….“NoasDad.” So cute. 

You were perfect.

I don’t know how you could have ever been better.

And I see those wonderful bits of you in our kids every day. Noa is so competitive, just like you. Small dark eyes, long curly black hair. The exact same smile. If she loses, she doesn’t reaaalllly lose — she’ll change the rules so she wins. And she looks exactly like you. She asked to call you the other day. She doesn’t quite understand what happened. I tell her you’re in heaven and that we can look at photos and videos. It crushes me every time. And Carter, he looks exactly like you, too. How lucky am I for that? I wish so badly that you could meet your son. That he could feel your touch. He’s the easiest. The chillest baby. I know you would be taking a ton of couch naps together. He’s our best sleeper. He makes me feel calm, just like you. I look at him and can’t help but think of you and without fail he gives me a smile that makes my day every time. John, I wish you could have held him. I think about it every day. He weighed eight pounds and three ounces, 20.5 inches long,  just like you!!! He’s perfect. And Johnny, your boy. You were so proud of how big he is. I mean…. He’s enormous. It’s so funny and cute. People look at him still and are like, Where did that kid come from? He’s got your personality. He’s a bit more quiet. He absorbs everything but only those closest to him get to see his funny side. He’s a listener. And I bet he’s going to be a sweet guy, just like you. (He doesn’t look like you though!!! Haha.)

They’re all you, John. 

I feel so lucky for them. I care about nothing but giving them all my love and all of yours that I am capable of giving. 

I promise you I will raise them to be the best versions of themselves. They will be kind and humble and passionate and caring and all the things I loved about you. I promise. And when the time comes for me to tell them about you, they’ll know how remarkable their dad was. I already have the boys watching your highlights and Noa watches videos of you and her together every day. You were humble, you were responsible, you were hard-working. You were the sweetest boyfriend, the greatest husband, and the best father. You wanted everything to be about me and the kids. You would have done anything for them. I know that. And they will know it, too. I promise, John.

Courtesy of the Gaudreau Family

You should see all the love everyone has for you and Matty. Your family, my family, all of Columbus, Calgary, and the whole hockey community — they love you and miss you guys. And I’m thankful for all that love, and to everyone who has been there for us. Because me and the kids have been the ones to feel it. And we’ve really needed it. 

Tell Matty I say Happy First Father’s Day! 

Matty — your boy is perfect. He has your eyes. Madeline is truly the best mom. We miss you so much. Noa’s godfather, who never showed up without little presents. Such an amazing uncle, who obviously would have been an amazing father.

John, I loved watching you and Matty take care of the kids together. Especially knowing Matty was going to be a dad, you did your best to show him the ropes and it was just … the cutest thing to me. And so funny when you would pass off the baby with the dirty diaper to Uncle Matty and teach him how to change diapers. You were so proud to teach him your little tips and tricks. I miss these, too. It is so unfair that you are both gone. 

You were the best spouse, my life partner forever.  

Happy first Father’s Day as a father of three! 

Thank you for the very best years of my life. Thank you for making us a family. Thank you for being my best friend, my favorite person, the man of my dreams.

I love you so much. Forever and ever. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. 

Forever.

—Meredith