Dear John,

IREMEMBER the last time I saw your face, standing at the front door in your business suit, December 2015, books under your arms for my son Jonathan, now four. I called you the night he was born — it’s a boy, Jonathan — and you laughed, “great, another John”. You were a business teacher, an author, a publisher, a managing director and my boss for eight years. Over that time, you became more than a boss — you were a family friend, a mentor, and a father figure. We travelled the length and breadth of the country together promoting new books to teachers — “the gospel according to John” I called it. At those events, you loved mingling with everyone, you loved the buzz, and you loved giving away books on the night, so much so you were like a Late Late Show host, one for everyone in the audience.

After all those events, we got back into the car, you were a home bird, didn’t like staying in hotels, we’d talk on those journeys home, listen to country music which I didn’t really like but you loved it. We’d stop at least twice for tea, and then sometimes for an eye break. I’d shuffle in the handbag to wake you as I feared some nights you would fall into a deep sleep. Then we’d be off again on our journey home. We clocked up a lot of mileage you and I, book launches in Boston, book launches in New York. I’d say we covered more than 200 launches in our years together.

Do you remember when you sat in a salon in New York and asked for a haircut and they told you they could do your nails but not your hair? We couldn’t stop laughing at that one? You had brilliant stories, always entertaining. I’d love to hear them again.

You were very kind in 2007 to let me have a career break “as long as you come back, now”. What boss would give you that these days?

I headed to South Africa to follow my dream and eventually married. Do you remember when I was there, Christmas of 2007 you rang me. “I’m knackered,” you said and told me you wouldn’t make it to the wedding. “We’ll talk when you get back.” You weren’t well. Imagine my surprise when I turned around after the wedding vows and there you were, in your business suit, grinning, arms in the air, the only person I know who would travel around the world for less than 24 hours to your PA’s wedding. Of course you hand delivered a message from An Taoiseach that evening in your speech saying he “missed me” at the recent book launches, and you entertained everyone with the rest of your speech that evening. Handbags featured again, most of all how many I had. We sat with the Twelve Apostle mountain range behind us laughing, discussing your flight, and discussing the fact that there were two people at the wedding that didn’t expect to see you and you didn’t expect to see them, two of your managers, a discreet blossoming office romance, revealed to you, out of your surprise another surprise, and when the penny dropped you laughed. You liked them both and a year later you spoke at their wedding.

You were happy that day, and full of life and energy. I was so privileged that you travelled so far. I knew you didn’t really like flying, foreign food, or the heat, but you did it for me. What a tribute.

You also helped me secure my future positions, twice you gave me super references after you retired and I was moving on. On one occasion the reference was so good, that the interviewer told me that he was expecting to see a halo when I walked into the room. You always were a brilliant salesman. You did a lot for me, helped me secure my first home, employment for some of my family, great nights out in L’Ecrivain restaurant and wonderful gifts for my son.

He was sleeping that night over Christmas when you called. My husband was out. We sat, had a cup of tea and a chat and a good gossip about old times. We had a few more stories to tell each other but it wasn’t to be. When you were leaving I hugged you. I never did that — maybe I knew. I’m glad I did as it was our last evening together.

You passed away almost a year ago, I didn’t get to say goodbye. You went quickly. I have great memories of our 17-year relationship, first boss, then friend. You made a big impact everywhere you went. I never met anyone like you.

The Business Studies Teachers’ Association of Ireland named an award in your honour to be presented to ‘best in class’ each year. You’ll be around forever now. You are missed and will be remembered fondly. Your Personal Assistant Audrey Audrey Ryder, Saggart, Co Dublin