John Mathew, or Johnboy, as he was called by those of us who love him, was born the seventh of eight children to parents James and Catherine. Artie and Anna D’Elia’s 12th grandchild, and Nanna Kelly’s ninth grandchild. 

But none of those numbers mean anything.  If he was related to you; son, grandson, nephew, brother, cousin, or uncle, he was undoubtedly your number one. He was your favorite.  And any one of the siblings will tell you the same.  He was our favorite because of his infectious smile, his warm heart, his helping hand when you needed it, his sense of levity in moments of fear and chaos.

When we were kids, Johnboy had his own version of the English language. It was Jersey city twang meets Jersey shore poet. His delivery, his style, his lip curl through mispronunciations and miscommunications were all epic. You wanted to talk to him about anything, and he had an opinion on EVERYTHING.  His thought provoking genius made you smarter the second you walked away, while also questioning yourself for thinking what you thought, and then checking your phone for a government wiretap.  

A profound love for family parties; birthdays, barbecues, and weddings were not a hit until Johnboy got there. You wanted to be around him. He would greet you with a hug, remember the last time he saw you, what you talked about, and even what you were wearing. And he would always say goodbye with an "I love you, Bro”. 

If Bruce was playing nearby, he was going and he bought you a ticket without asking and also told you not to worry about it, “let's just go see the band”.  Throughout the night, as he sang every word to every song and his arm would end up tightly around your neck…it hurt a bit, but no one would ever mind. He would kiss you on the head and say I LOVE YOU BRO, I bet you Bruce plays Thunder Road next…. True story, Thunder Road would play next.

Johnboy was everyone's best friend. Some of his best and funniest moments came on nights, teaching our nephews invaluable life lessons like how to prank call someone, how to order late night food and run up aunt Mac’s credit card and get away with it by having the youngest nephew sign for it. He would also bestow upon all the boys, great nutritional knowledge by showing up past midnight with McDonalds or dominos.

Johnboy was our best friend. He was there for every great moment in our lives. But his greatest prominence was being there for every bad day.  Every grief stricken moment he had our back. Righteousness mattered little to him when it came to protecting those he loved. right or wrong he was going down with you or pulling you through it. 

He was by far the strongest D’Elia, both physically and mentally. And he proved it as he fought against this awful disease for eight months.  Battling through several surgeries, extreme pain that would make anyone quit, and radiation treatments that left him exhausted. But he fought hard, and I know he fought to get more time with his wife and precious daughter. They both were his world.

Ultimately, John lost his battle with spindle cell carcinoma, a rare and aggressive form of cancer that develops when abnormal cells grow uncontrollably and can spread throughout the body. While this disease took him from us far too soon, it could never take away the love, laughter, and memories he created with everyone fortunate enough to know him.

Saying goodbye is hard, but I know for a fact that it was God who brought all eight siblings together one last time the night before John passed. We will cherish that memory.

So, Johnboy, we all hold onto the belief that someday we will meet again “further on up the road.” And to quote the great Jack Walsh, “See you in the next life, John. See you in the next life.”