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For anybody who doesn't know me, my name is Michael McCleery, and I am Terrys
Id like to thank you all for joining us as we remember our father. Your kind words
expressed over the past few days are a source of comfort for us and are a constant
reminder of how special our father was. I would like to share with you the kind of
My fathers parents immigrated from Ireland and England to Canada in 1922, getting
affectionately tell us stories about The Pointe, some of which I am able to repeat.
Life was tough in the Pointe, especially during the depression era and wartime
which lasted a decade and a half and through my Dads prime childhood years.
He would talk about the neighborhood boy who would pop his glass eye ou if he was
down to his last marble, being sent to the General store to buy a Cherry Blossom
candy and split it 6 ways, playing football for the Pointe St Charles Gravel Crushers
(on gravel!!), or having the mistaken belief that he could outleg a CFL lineman Bob
Geary. The resulting confrontation leaving him shall I say dentally insufficient.
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He was born on July 23, 1933. His father William was Irish Protestant Orangeman
from Belfast; fought with the British Army in China before going to World War 1. He
and his wife Peggy raised Ronald, Kathleen, Alan, Desmond, Sheila, Terry and
Brenda. Like most families during the depression, life was a struggle. Baby Desmond
As a 9 year old, my Dad contracted a disease called St Vitus Dance, which is now
called Sydenhams chorea. A quick Google search states that symptoms include an
abrupt onset of neurological issues, which include violent tremors affecting all four
limbs, behavior changes, slurred speech, loss of fine and gross motor
control, headache, slowed cognition, facial grimacing, and fidgetiness. If that doesnt
sound depressing enough for you, he was placed in isolation in a Sanitarium 2 hours
outside of Montreal. His parents would take the train to visit him, waving outside of
Like most large families during that era, poverty compelled my Dad and many of his
siblings to enter the workforce at an early age to help support the household.
It is clear that these early struggles shaped his character and provided him with core
virtues of hard work, loyalty, sacrifice and commitment. These attributes would
As a young adult, my father and his parents moved out of the Pointe to Otterburn
Park, about an hour north east of Montreal. This is where he discovered paddling
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and later met my mother. Dad and his brother really took to paddling, competing
nationally with his brother Alan in the war canoe. In November of this year, Alan
came to visit Dad and shared some very funny and engaging stories of those days.
It was about this time that my father took up a trade with Otis Elevators. He was a
dedicated and hard worker, but the economy worsened and the industry dried up.
He was laid off in 1982. Joblessness and record high interest rates served as a
Despite his recent health issues and hardship experienced as a child, this era was
probably the most challenging period of his life. My father was a proud man who
above all else; identified himself as a provider. During this time, my mother and
father did everything possible to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table.
My mother babysat half of Kemptville, and my father did odd, at times grueling jobs
A few years later, Dad got a job as a maintenance worker at Carleton University. In
many ways, this was a step back, not only in pay but also in status. It was not a
stimulating work environment for him. But, he made the best of it. Whether it was
shenanigans in his carpool van, or famously convincing workmates that he was the
mayor of Kemptville. The key was getting the support of the local bakery. The job
at Carleton was a stable, unionized job providing a steady income, security and a
pension. But what Dad talked about most was free tuition for his children. I should
He would later say with great pride that his children collectively obtained 6 degrees
One of my champion moments for my Dad was the multiple graduation ceremonies
he would attend. One of my fathers jobs was to assist with the set up of graduation
The hard work was not confined to Otis Elevators or Carleton University. My father
loved a project, and there was none bigger than our house on 311 Joseph Street. He
Then he built a shed. It was a grand shed and the first of many. It is the shed that
would become Dads sanctuary, where he would go to escape. As he got older, the
projects became less ambitious, but the puttering the desire to do things -
remained constant.
Even though we did not have much money growing up as kids, we never felt poor.
For sure, other kids had newer, shinier things but exciting stuff happened in our
household. Many of those kids came to our house, and would sit in our kitchen;
spend the night, or longer. Mom would put another bag of pasta in the pot and feed
them all.
My Dad enjoyed a full house, feeding off the energy and exuberance of the people
who came over. He was social, engaging and his enthusiasm endeared so many
people to him. To those who knew him well, he was a larger than life, a good man
with a big personality and strong sense of humour. For Kevin, Bobby, Alyson, Scott
and I, he was our measure of a man; he was our dad. He was father figure to many of
our friends.
My Dad loved being a grandfather and was very proud of their accomplishments. He
loved playing little pranks and puns, often saying to his grand daughters I used to
have that dress when I was a little girl. As with his own kids, he lived his life
through his grandchildren and step-grandchildren. Every one of them had a special
My Dad was never an overtly affectionate man. He communicated his love through
actions, like providing for his family, demonstrating the value of hard work, and an
When I think about my Dad, I remember all the funny stories and the big belly
laughs, but underlying it all was a theme of unspoken sacrifice. Not only did he
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I never realized the extent of this until the year 2000. Its the year I go married. My
soon to be wife Adele had was considering then accepted a job in Wellington New
Zealand. When it was initially a possibility, I looked it up on the map and did my
research as you do. When I told my parents that we were getting married and
moving to Wellington, they congratulated us and then my Dad paused and said,
Wellington, southern tip of the North Island? He was spot on, but the only reason I
I realized at this point, that my father was a traveller who had never travelled, and
although his formal schooling was limited to Lorne Academy, he read books, poetry
and was a lifelong student of history and geography. So he knew all the places, not
just where they were but their context and their history. For years, he travelled
through the pages and volumes of books; yet for all this, he never saw the ocean.
to Ireland, where Kevin and his family; Adele and I were living in 2002. When my
Parents, Alyson and Sarah landed, the first item on the agenda was to take Dad to
the ocean and throw him in! While we were there, we did the usual sight seeing, and
then Kevin and I brought Dad to his fathers regimental museum in Inniskilling
Northern Ireland. The trip culminated in a visit to Belfast, where Dad for the first
time ever met paternal relatives; his cousin Betty McMaster and her son Robin.
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As I look back, I think retirement was tough on my Dad. He developed a spinal
condition that limited his ability to use his hands for basic tasks; eventually he
slowed down considerably and lost his ability to putter. This had an impact on his
mood and presented all of us with challenges, not least of which my mother. As a
family, we made the difficult decision to put him on a waitlist for a Long Term Care
facility. I can speak for everyone by saying that the last thing my father would want
If there is a silver lining to this past week, its that my father lived his 83 years at
Toward the end, this was no small achievement. To start, we need to acknowledge
Dads stubborn determination and will to live his life to the fullest. Followed by the
efforts of Dr Greg Leonard and the cardiology team at The Ottawa Heart Institute,
who did a wonderful job caring for Dad. However, at the end of the day, it was really
the efforts of my mother that made home a reality for him. I want to take this
moment to thank you Mom for being there for Dad in every possible way.
It gives me great pleasure to say that over this last year my father was more at ease
with what was happening to him and around him, being his happiest when he was
My dad was unwell for a long time and I think we were all sort of preparing this day
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in our own way. Even a few days ago the cardiologist was surprised based on
imaging when he was last at the Heart Institute in 2014 - that he did not come back
So, when something like this happens, you realize that you can never truly prepare
for it. The pain that one endures when a child loses a parent is deep and profound,
and even though it is one of those life events that most people go through, it feels
I look back at my life with Mom and Dad and I realize the all those strong values he
demonstrated were preparation for things that truly matter in life, like being a good
husband, a role model father, a loyal brother and of course, the value of a hard days
work. It also prepares me for this day, this moment, when a son loses his father.
In conclusion, Id like to quote the final verse of a Rudyard Kipling Kipling poem, If.
When I was a child, it hung on a wall in our home. I believe it used to belong to my
Dads father.
If Rudyard Kipling