Obituary for my Father

Robert Knight, 96, laid down his working tools on May 23, 2024 and passed away at Huron Lodge Long Term Care Home.  Fondly known as Scotty, or Uncle Bob, Robert was born on May 7th, 1928 in Greenock, Scotland. A man of few words, yet a teller of stories (most often the same ones over and over) Robert is survived by his wife of 71 years Margaret and his daughter Catherine.  Predeceased by  his children Bryan (1975), Lynn (2005) and Scot (2016).  Robert was a proud Grandad/Papa to Bryan, Trevor, Tyler, Cameron, Kyle, Lauren, Ethan, Matthew and Abby.  

The oldest of five children, Robert was just a young boy when his father was taken as a prisoner in the Second World War.  He left school at the age of twelve to work on a farm and provide for his family in his father's absence.  At the age of eighteen, Robert met Margaret at the Ceilidh and they married on March 27th, 1953.  

With only two dollars in his pocket, Robert boarded a ship and sailed to Canada to find work and a better life for he and his new bride.  A self taught, skilled tradesman, Robert was able to provide passage for Margaret to join him and they settled in Toronto.  Job opportunities brought him to Windsor and, at the age of thirty eight, Robert started his own business; a commercial acoustical ceiling installation company.  An avid reader, Robert enjoyed military history and a good spy novel.  His hobbies included golf, horse racing and telling stories over a warm pint at his local pub.  Robert and Margaret loved to travel and managed to visit several destinations across the globe.  In their later years, the warm desert air of Palm Springs, California became their winter refuge.

We remember not only the journey you've completed, but the "dynasty" you have left behind.  May you receive a Highland welcome and find peace on the bonnie banks of eternity's shore.  

"If there's another world, he lives in bliss;

If there is none, he made the best of this."

~Robert Burns

 Slàinte mhath! 

Eulogy For My Father

Today, we lay my father, Robert Knight to rest and reunite him with his first born son, my brother, Bryan. I believe that now he will finally be at peace. In his 96 years, my father lived through many trials and tribulations. His was not an easy life.  

The oldest of five children, Robert was just a young boy when his father was taken as a prisoner in the Second World War.  He left school at the age of twelve to work on a farm and provide for his family in his father's absence.  At the age of 18, Robert met the love of his life, Margaret, at the Ceilidh and they were married on the 27th of March, 1953.  With only two dollars in his pocket, Robert boarded a ship and sailed to Canada to find work and a better life for he and his new bride.

A self taught, yet skilled tradesman, Robert was able to later provide passage for Margaret to join him and they settled in Toronto and started a family. Opportunity led him to Windsor and Robert moved his family to the place he would call home for the remainder of his life. 

Robert is survived by his loving wife of 71 years, Margaret.  After three years apart, unfortunate circumstances reunited them last June and over this past year, they once again resided under the same roof.  Dementia may have stolen their memories, but I believe that their connection and love remained intact.  I will be forever grateful that they were reunited in the end.  Though my mother cannot be here today, I know she would have wanted me to acknowledge the life they had together and celebrate the man that he was. 

A father of four children, Robert would outlive all but me.  The grief and tragedy he endured in his lifetime cannot be put into words.  All of you who stand here with me share in a part of that grief.  In that, sadly, we are united. Today, Bryan, Lynn and Scot, are here with us in spirit and have welcomed my father home. 

On this day, we remember not only the journey you've completed Robert, but the dynasty you have left behind.  I know he will live on in our memories, in our stories, and in what all of us have become because of him.  Today, tomorrow, and in the years to come,  I encourage you to share your memories and your stories of him. In doing so, we will keep the gift of his life alive and the pages of his book will never be closed.  In our memories, his story lives on. 

I'd like to close by reading a poem written by Robert Burns.  In tribute to my father, please raise your glasses;

Epitaph on my own Friend

" An honest man here lies at rest,

As e'er God with His image blest:

The friend of man, the friend of truth;

The friend of age, and guide of youth:

Few hearts like his, with virtue warm'd, 

Few heads with knowledge so inform'd:

If there's another world, he lives in bliss;

If there is none, he made the best of this."

 Slàinte mhath!

A Leg Up

      May 7th,  2024 marked my father's 96th birthday.  While this was a milestone, it was met with mixed emotions. 

 Over the last 4 years, I have become the reluctant guardian of my father's memories as dementia over takes him. Recently,  as I watched  the 150th running of the Kentucky Derby, I couldn't help but feel nostalgic and dug up some old photos from his days at the track.

    I inherited my love of horses from my father. The above photo is him putting me up on the back of one of his race horses.  Dementia has made him forget me, but I will forever be thankful that he gave me my my first leg up.

   Looking at these photos gave me an idea. A way to both honour my father on his birthday and celebrate his love of horses. With the help of a wonderful local organization, Windsor Essex Therapeutic Riding Association, I was able to let my father once again touch, feel and interact with a horse. 

    Horses  give us the gift of their presence and offer to hold space for us to feel and process our emotions.  No matter our age, humans have the innate desire to be seen and heard authentically.  While my father wasn't fully able to engage, Cody the therapy horse did nuzzle out a laugh and caused my father to smile, albeit briefly. The memories we created that day may be fleeting, but I will cherish them and hold them close forever. 

Hold on and lean in.

Living in the Sunshine...

 

Today is a big day for me.  It marks a milestone.  Of the four of us, I am the only surviving sibling. 

My oldest brother was killed in an accident at the age of 18.  My sister died of cancer at the age of 50.  My closest sibling, my brother, died from complications resulting from surgery at the age of 54.  

Today, I am one day older than my brother was when he died.  I am the oldest and only surviving sibling.  It is bittersweet to say the least. 

This photo was the last one taken of the four of us together.  As I look upon it, I try not to feel sadness.  Today I am choosing to live in the sunshine of their life, not the shadows of their death. 

Hold on and lean in.