01 May Words of Love: A Tribute to Brian Jarboe

Last Friday, our family attended the funeral of our dear friend, Brian Jarboe. I have known Brian for about 17 years, and I will always remember the quintessentially Cheverly experience of meeting his lovely wife, my dear friend Caroline, when she came to claim the baby bathtub I had posted on our neighborhood listserv when our daughters were infants. I’ve always known Brian to be an incredibly generous, kind, and caring person but it wasn’t until he began to teach my son Joseph guitar that I got to experience Brian in an up close and personal way I hadn’t had the privilege to previously.

When Joseph was only five years old, he expressed an interest to learn to play the guitar. If you knew Brian even a little bit, you learned quickly that he loved playing guitar. I knew Brian had a crazy full life already, but I also knew that he had a passion for guitar that I hadn’t seen in others and thought, well, I can at least ask him if he would be willing. Brian was not just willing, he was delighted to begin instructing Joseph.

I’ll never forget the first weeks of lessons on our sunporch, where I sat and watched as Brian patiently moved Joseph’s small fingers to the proper place on the strings and placed his confident, skillful hands over Joseph’s small, uncertain ones, heaping on praise any time Joseph strummed a chord correctly. It didn’t take more than a few months of this for Joseph to truly believe “I can play the guitar!” due to Brian’s effusive encouragement.

During the time that Brian was teaching Joseph, I was in seminary and took a class in Youth Ministry. In this class, my professor shared an important character trait of those who work with youth that comes from 1 Thessalonians 2:8. The Apostle Paul, in writing a letter to the Church at Thessalonica wrote “so we cared for you. Because we loved you so much, we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well.” My professor told us, “young people need us not only to share with them a message but to demonstrate our love for them through action, time, and presence – to impart ‘our very lives’ to them.”

As I have reflected on Brian’s relationship with Joseph, this quality is what stands out to me most. Brian did not just teach Joseph chords or songs. He imparted his love and passion for music and life to him. He did not just instruct him in a transactional process. He shared his very life with my son. And my son felt it. He had found a mentor and friend in Brian and he adored him. When Brian entered our home, he would always say, “Have you been practicing, buddy?” Joseph was eager to respond that he had been, and Brian would pull a pack of Reeses Peanut Butter cups or some other treat out of his pocket as a reward for faithfully practicing.

Over the years, Brian taught Joseph about the musicians and singers behind the songs – As he learned to play “Words of Love” he told Joseph stories of Buddy Holly (including the story of when Brian got to hold (and possibly play, if I remember it correctly!) one of Buddy Holly’s guitars! He told him stories of the lives and musical work the Beatles, Tom Petty, and so many others.

After Brian’s heart surgery and subsequent paralysis and health decline, there was a season when Brian just wasn’t up for meeting with Joseph. Joseph steadfastly refused to get a new guitar teacher: “Mr. Brian is my guitar teacher,” he insisted. “Mr. Brian isn’t up for teaching right now, honey,” I tried to explain…but something in my heart said that maybe Joseph could still meet with him and play for him. The first day we came into his room, he greeted Joseph with his consistent, cheerful greeting even though I knew he wasn’t feeling great. “Play something for me, buddy,” Brian encouraged. Joseph hesitated and began to play a song Brian had taught him months ago.

“You need something new to play, Joseph,” he insisted, and together we thought of another song for him – I believe it was “Take Me Home, Country Roads” by John Denver, which is one of my all time favorites. For several months, Joseph had lessons with Brian again and both of them came alive in each other’s company. For some time, Brian would not play a guitar after his surgery. One day, during a lesson, Joseph stumbled to play a chord correctly after trying multiple times. Instinctively, Brian reached for Joseph’s guitar and played the chord for him, and then the whole song. Some of us might have been wiping tears away after that moment.

For Joseph’s ninth birthday, Brian gave him one of his very own electric guitars. It was one that Brian had actually made himself! As you will see from the photo, Joseph was ecstatic and so honored! All of this was a sweet season they were able to share their love of music together again. Eventually, Brian’s health grew worse and we had to set their guitar sessions aside – but all the love remained strong, and we prayed for Brian every day.

When Caroline shared with us the news of Brian’s passing, we were devastated. At his funeral, Charles Andrews gave a profound eulogy about Brian’s legacy of love and we all just kept nodding in agreement. We are so incredibly grateful for his life and friendship and all that he imparted to our son. The last song that Brian taught Joseph to play on the guitar was “People Get Ready” by Curtis Mayfield, which seems fitting, as it’s lyrics urge:

“People get ready
There’s a train a comin’
You don’t need no baggage
You just get on board
All you need is faith
To hear the diesels hummin’
You don’t need no ticket
You just thank the Lord

So people get ready
There’s a train to Jordan
Picking up passengers
Coast to coast
Faith is the key
Open the doors and board them
There’s hope for all
Among those loved the most”

We love you, Brian. We look forward to the day when we will meet again.