I remember all the times we would wait for John to come across the mighty Ottawa River. He would dock his boat in Westmeath and the kids would check out every boat coming across. They knew from a distance if it was Uncle John. The front end of the boat would be breached as if it was going to take flight, with one hand on his head to hold down his hat, and the other on the throttle! The boat would be bouncing across the waves! Yup that’s Uncle John! He’s here! Those familiar words and picture now form a comfort. He’d arrive with an infectious smile, hug the kids, tell them to unload the boat, remind them to stay out of his tackle box, and swagger up the beach. We were always happy to see him. Even Grandma Nieman chimed in “Hey John, coffee is on”! Over to the porch we would go where we’d would begin to plan our fishing, mushroom picking and Uncle Gerry would tell tales of huge blueberries that must be picked before the bears get them! I remember one time, that is exactly what happened, I was picking berries, and John and Gerry start signalling to me to stand up and slowly walk to toward them… a cute little bear is sitting about 20 feet from me! I never moved so fast in my life! John starts laughing saying I told you to move slowly! I am lost because I can’t believe my brother is gone. It’s as if life takes more than it gives at times and I don’t know if I can handle it. I am struggling with my brother’s passing. I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye. I want to understand why John was called home now, why now when so many of us didn’t say good-bye, when so much was left unsaid. I know that if we are to call ourselves Christians, we cannot ask ourselves these questions, because to do so is to question the benevolence and divine wisdom of our Lord. We, as a family must reconcile. Today, we are lost together. Gloria, Wally, Tracy and Richard and your immediate family, I can’t even imagine your pain. We all know that John was the kind of man we all strive to be. He encouraged me, he encouraged my children to learn and to be the best they can be. He embraced life. My brother was passionate about so many things. He loved his Gloria. He was a good brother, he loved his family and even though he didn’t always say it, his actions spoke louder than words. We talked for hours on the boat about his family, his life on the road when he drove the Irish Rovers, he loved being a TTC driver, but he couldn’t wait to retire! We talked, we shared. His stories were always entertaining and amusing. His best stories were about the times he spent with his family, his children and his hunting and fishing trips with his brothers. John was a man who’s grace and talent was not just fishing and sports. He was genuine in so many ways. He loved people and he had a wonderful gift of making people feel welcome. From the first time I saw him come across the Ottawa River, step out of the boat, and hand his fishing box to the kids, and say with a smirk, “stay out of my tackle box” I saw it, a genuine interest, a good man. He knew the kids were going to go shopping in his tackle box… it was a tradition for the kids to help themselves to certain things that he planted in there just for them! We ask so much of our children at times, to learn and embrace ideals, perfection, commitment, compassion, passion, and brotherhood. John embodied those very ideals. He was a mentor to my children. I don’t think he ever gave up on anything or anyone. I remember the lessons we learned, the memories we shared, the fish we caught, the mushrooms we picked, the berries we lost, the parties we had, the laughter, the tears we cried, the hugs we shared, the campfires we sat around, the family we loved. I am left with a profound and genuine love for my brother and for my family. On the days ahead when I feel lost, I take comfort in the memories we shared and I know he is looking down on all of us with the same love and compassion. We continue on. God Bless.