In Loving Memory

Dad passed away on June 4th, 2025, after a very short and aggressive battle with lung cancer. It all happened in about a month. He remained mentally sharp and completely himself right to the end—clear-eyed, thoughtful, and brave. His body was shutting down quickly, and he made the difficult but courageous decision to access MAID (Medical Assistance in Dying). He didn’t want to be in a hospital or hospice, and he didn’t want anyone to care for him in his final days. He wanted to go on his own terms: at home, with dignity, strength, and independence.

I was with him when he passed, along with my sister Stephanie, my husband Kieran, and my brothers Jason and Kurt, who were present on the phone. It was peaceful. It was quiet. And it was exactly what he wanted.

He didn’t want a funeral or service, so this is my tribute to him—shared in the spirit of honesty, love, and remembrance.

Dad’s life was deeply shaped by love, heartbreak, and the complexity of family. He had an extraordinary gift for seeing people who were struggling – the most vulnerable. He didn’t judge – he empathized. He offered his time, his support, his kindness, and whatever help he could give. He lived simply, but gave generously. He believed in the dignity of every person.

In his early years, he worked as an ironworker, then spent most of his life self-employed. He could fix or build anything—homes, vehicles, systems. He was brilliant in the way he solved problems: logically, creatively, and with total confidence in his ability to figure it out. He never stopped inventing, modifying, and building.

When I was 17, we left Ontario and drove across the country together to BC. It was a fresh start, from the ground up. When things felt tough he made me feel safe. He never let me see fear. He believed in me, and in us. He passed his strength on to me. I am who I am because of him.

Over the years, I mostly stayed close to him. He would come visit me in Smithers a few times a year. He loved the long drive—said it gave him peace, and was in awe of nature and the beauty of the world rolling past him. He loved my husband, Kieran, and called him a prince of a man. He adored my children, Jasper and Cedar - we talked for years about him moving up here to be near us.

Steph and Jason were always in his heart. Although Jack and James don’t remember him, he never forgot them, asked about them often and carried them with him always.

Eight years ago, he discovered he had another son—Kurt. They hadn’t known about each other until Kurt came looking for him. And when they did, they formed an incredibly close bond. That was the kind of man he was: capable of forming deep, authentic connection even late in life.

Over the past few years, he poured himself into a sailboat. He had never sailed before, but that didn’t stop him. He taught himself everything, obsessively researched every detail, and spent hundreds of hours preparing. His dream was to sail up the BC coast to Princess Louisa Inlet—a remote, beautiful place he imagined reaching. He was ready to go this summer. Everything was in place.

Before he died, I made him a promise. I told him I would take him to Princess Louisa Inlet—the place he never got to see.

I have his boat now.
Maybe I’ll learn to sail.
He would love that.

We all carry pieces of him—Stephanie, Jason, Kurt, and I. We are each part of his story. And his love for us, though complicated, was constant and true.

I miss him terribly.
And I love him endlessly.

Fair winds and following seas, Dad.

Love Jessie