John J. Gormley Jr., 08 Oct 1945 - 11 Nov 2024

GORMLEY, WHITE, SAYLER, SAHAGUN, JORDAN, LLOYD, YOUNG, SANTIGLIA, CONNER, SWEENEY, SEDDON, GORMLEY-SMITH

Posted By: Sarah Witte (email)
Date: 11/27/2024 at 14:03:53

John J. Gormley Jr. (Jack), age 79, of Marengo, passed away Monday, November 11, 2024, at Compass Memorial Hospital. The family held a private ceremony to honor his life and memory.

Jack was born October 8, 1945, in Ozone Park, Long Island, New York. He was united in marriage on September 28, 1968, to Claire Julia White.

Jack is survived by his wife of 56 years, Claire, his children Bekki Sayler (Craig), Jessie Sahagun, Jackie Jordan (Tom), and John Gormley III (Emily); sixteen grandchildren: Thomas Sayler (Amanda), Gabby Loyd (Cory), John Gormley IV, Josh Jordan, Micah Sayler (Ashley), Anna Jordan (Sam), Jake Jordan, Isabella Gormley, Payton Gormley, Isaac Sayler, Sam Sayler, Stephen Sayler, Dalilah Gormley, Harper Gormley, and Mason Gormley; and great-grandsons Ryder and Grayson Loyd. He is also survived by his sisters Dawn Young, Eileen Santiglia, Anna Marie Conner (Rob), Joy Sweeney, Terry Seddon (Donald), and Gayle Gormley-Smith (Richard).

Jack was preceded in death by his brothers-in-law Bud Young and Sabistian Santiglia, son-in-law Michael Sahagun, and granddaughter Lily Gormley, who has been waiting patiently for her Papa to come home.

Where the Song Birds Gather
By Stephen Sayler

He dreamed of the ocean,
to walk the beaches, bare feet sinking in sand,
his dreams leaving gentle prints beside the waves.
He was a keeper of quiet places,
a listener to songbirds’ soft notes
as they gathered to his feeders
like friends drawn close,
and in their wings, he found his peace.
In the mornings, he would sip his coffee,
watching the light spill over the yard,
where he’d cut a maze in the grass for his kids,
a winding path of joy just for them,
while he watched over, content,
knowing they were safe and free.
In the evenings, he’d sit in the dark,
with music low and a candle burning,
each flicker a heartbeat, a memory held,
wrapped in the glow of his own gentle light.
This was his way—
to love the stillness,
to find life in the quietest places,
to dream of waves and shorelines stretching wide.
He is part of that quiet now,
his spirit breathing in the songbirds,
in the morning light on dew-touched grass,
in the memory of warm sand and rolling tides,
where his dreams still wander,
where his love, like the ocean,
flows steady and free.

Published in The Hometown Current on November 27, 2024.