Joseph Borne

Joseph Borne, age 57 of Harrison, Ohio passed away Saturday, June 25, 2022 in Harrison.  Born May 7, 1965 in Cincinnati, Ohio the son of James and Beverly Ann (Burt) Donnelly.

Joseph married Michael Borne on July 20, 2016 in Cincinnati, Ohio.

Joseph is survived by his husband Michael Borne.  Father of Jennifer Dunbar, Michael (Euylonda Stamm) Borne Jr. and Tara Veach.  Grandfather of Zackary, Kaitlynn, Lucas, Michael, Alex, Jacob, Jordan, Chase and Jameson. Brother of Mary (Robert) Lessard, Floyd Perry and Janice Simmons.

Preceded in death by his Parents James and Beverly Donnelly.

A Celebration of Joseph's life will be held July 30, 2022 from 1:30 P.M. to 6:00 P.M. at Miami Whitewater Park, Beach Bluff, 9001 Mt. Hope Road, Harrison, Ohio.

Memorials may be directed to Alzheimer's Association, 644 Linn Street #1026, Cincinnati, Ohio 45203, www.alz.org , or to The Trevor Project, P.O. Box 69232, West Hollywood, CA 90069, www.thetrevorproject.org .

You couldn’t tell me that my Uncle Joe wasn’t the coolest when I was a kid. We mostly saw each other during my summers away from Florida. If he’d had it his way, years before - and he tried - he’d have unpacked the moving truck that took his sister and his niece almost a thousand miles away from him. In my memories, he’s always tanned, tattooed, flashing a brilliant smile, and looking ready to hit the beach. In my mind, he listened to the coolest music, had the funniest jokes, and was, without a doubt, the best uncle a kid could want. It wasn’t until I had grown and had my own kids that I realized how much he had taught me.

When I was visiting, he made me feel like I was important to him. He asked questions about my interests. He shared his own interests, too; he introduced me to Marilyn Monroe, Rocky Horror Picture Show, and family stories I’d never heard. He talked to me like I wasn’t only a child, but a person. He taught me that speaking with respect to others goes farther than talking down to them.

He’d drive me to places around greater Cincinnati – parks, ice cream stores, grocery shopping, to his work – while nodding along to Guns ‘n’ Roses, Queen, or country radio, and listening to me chatter. In these car rides, he taught me to listen without judgment; to listen compassionately and patiently. He taught me that, sometimes, just listening is enough. Just being together is enough.

Joe delivered gunslinger-quick repartee. His eyes sparkled when he’d start building to the punchline. Then he’d laugh his unmistakable laugh right along with you. He taught me to delight in shared joy.

As I got older, I started to see Joe’s quick wit and humor as a cover for the pain he felt. Like many hurting people, he felt everything intensely. He loved fiercely and would fight to protect his friends’ and family’s feelings. He grieved deeply when he lost a friend. He knew that he’d made mistakes, in words and actions. Whatever words he said in anger, he deeply regretted. What he would have said, if he’d had the words, was this:

“I love you so deeply that I put you on a pedestal. I forgot that you, a shining star in my sky, are human and make mistakes, too. Forgive me for hurting you. I love you, always.”

He taught me to recognize my own shortcomings, be humble about them, and try to do better. One thing I know, Joe would want us to be gentle with ourselves and each other as we become the people he knew we could be.