Goodbye Wally

I just got sad news about a friend of mine: back between my school years and going to college I spent a year in New Brunswick in Canada: while I was there I was pretty much adopted by friends of the family: Wally and Susan. They were almost like second parents, feeding me, taking me with them on trips to the lake, including me in their family.
Susan passed away about 18 months ago, and today I just heard that Wally died a couple of days ago. He wasn't old, still not quite 70, I think, but he'd been in bad health for a while.

When I met him, Wally was the head of the maintenance department at the local hospital: and a few weeks later, I ended up getting a job in his department: he was a good boss: he made people work hard, but he taught people well, and if you worked hard he praised you for it. I learned a lot from him, about all sorts of practical life issues.

When he became too senior for the hospital's liking, he was eased out to make way for cheaper, younger labour. He took a job in the forests, thinning silver birch, until a nasty accident a few years ago nearly felled him, and took away his livelihood: he was left almost blind, without a sense of balance, and unable to walk in his beloved outdoors.

Last year, his other great love was taken away too: Susan died, leaving him with just his children, particularly his daughter, to care for him. Which she did wonderfully.

I got a chance to talk to Wally and his daughter for a while in April: I am so glad that I got a chance to see him one last time: it was difficult to see him so changed from the hale and hearty outdoorsman he had been, but it was still good to see him.

Goodbye, old bear, I'll miss you.
Resquiat in pacem.

Yours, in memoriam,
N.