Another piece of history has died...

My grandfather, my father, and I at my wedding in 2012

After surprising us all last weekend by surviving having CPR done on him, my 92 year-old grandfather died moments ago. I'm not on here for condolences or support, I'm here to celebrate the amazing life of this Veteran.

Born in England, he enlisted during WWII and served with honour as a radio operator in the RAF. He survived the war, though he lost a brother at Dunkirk. He never spoke much about his experiences, but I know he was proud of them.

After the war, he emigrated to Canada where he met my grandmother and started a family. At various points in his career he worked as an accountant and a travel agent.

He was a man of quiet faith who loved my grandmother deeply right up until she died a few months before my wedding. He cared for her through the ravages of dementia and demonstrated what it truly meant to be a man of honour.

While his health had been declining in recent years, he hadn't ever been unwell, despite suffering a series of strokes in recent years. He found joy in his barbershop group, loving to sing with them right up until this year.

I will miss swapping stories with him, sharing tea with him, and hearing about his experiences. I am sad for his passing but thankful for the beautiful tapestry that he weaved from the varied threads of his life.