Kingston, Ontario — Well, this is definitely not the post I ever thought I would have to write, especially not at a time like this. As many of you already know, we have experienced the worst loss we could ever imagine, and to be honest, it still doesn’t feel real. There’s a heaviness that sits with us constantly, a disbelief that refuses to fade. Part of me is still expecting to hear the door open, to see him walk in like nothing ever changed, ready to make one of his famous smart remarks that would have us all shaking our heads and laughing at the same time.
That was just who he was—quick-witted, full of personality, and never one to hold back when it came to humor. His presence filled a room in a way that can’t be replaced. It wasn’t just the things he said, but the way he said them, the timing, the look on his face—those little moments that made everyday life brighter and more meaningful.
Right now, everything feels quiet in a way that’s hard to describe. The kind of quiet that reminds you something is missing. We find ourselves replaying memories, holding onto the laughter, the conversations, the ordinary days that now mean so much more. It’s in those memories that he continues to live on, even as we struggle to accept that he’s no longer here with us physically.
Grief is a strange thing. It comes in waves—sometimes soft and reflective, other times overwhelming and impossible to ignore. One moment we’re sharing stories and smiling at the thought of him, and the next we’re hit with the reality that those moments won’t happen again. It’s a kind of pain that doesn’t have a clear path, something you just learn to carry.
He wasn’t just someone we knew—he was a part of us, a part of our daily lives, our routines, our laughter. The bond we shared doesn’t disappear, even now. It lives on in the way we remember him, in the habits we picked up from him, in the stories we’ll keep telling for years to come.
To everyone who has reached out, offered support, or shared a memory—thank you. It means more than we can properly express. In times like this, it’s the people around us who help carry some of the weight, who remind us that we’re not alone in this loss. The love being shown is a reflection of the kind of person he was and the impact he had on so many lives.
As we try to move forward, we’re holding onto the parts of him that made life brighter—the humor, the honesty, the way he could turn even an ordinary moment into something memorable. Those are the things that will stay with us.
I still can’t quite believe this is real. It doesn’t feel like something that should be happening, not now, not like this. But even in the midst of that disbelief, one thing is certain—he will never be forgotten. He will always be a part of us, in every laugh, every story, and every memory we carry forward.
