Bruce Reid

My Dad Bruce,

How does one sum up a lifetime of memories, deeds, and actions into a few words? It's very hard. My dad was one of the strongest, most sincere, kind-hearted, and humble men I've ever known. He was tough, but fair, hard-working, helpful, and generous.

He was very community minded and enjoyed finding good causes to champion. He belonged to many clubs, organizations and associations over the years, the 4H Club, the Air Cadets, St Luke's Young People's group, Numerous photography clubs and associations (far too many to track or name), and The International Order of the Old Bastards. I might be missing others that he was involved in over the years but I know that he loved helping out where he could and enjoyed the comraderie these organizations brought.

Most of his working life (36yrs) were dedicated to being a safety officer and teaching First Aid and CPR for HBM&S as well as the city of Flin Flon and was also a part of Mine Rescue. He taught others how to save lives and I'm sure many have put those skills to practice over the years. For his long-time dedication and service as a St John Ambulance First Aid Instructor, he was admitted into the Most Venerable Order of the Hospital of St John of Jerusalem, by Her Excellency, Governor General Jeanne Sauve, Prior of the Order of St John in Canada.

My dad had a great sense of humor and enjoyed a good joke. He always had a nickname for everybody, whether you wanted one or not he gave you one. For instance my mother had nicknames ranging from poohbear to hop-sing, my brother from cornelius Jacabowski (because he was so bald and had one tooth as a baby to ted-bear), (we were a family of bear's in my dad's eyes; not sure why that was but hey we went with it), his grandaughter was "peanut" and his grandson was "little-man". His two brothers were Tuck and Squirrel and his sister Mags. Over the years I have been in company with the likes of Angela Piffle-sniffle, Joni Balognia, Gabby, Woopie-Ding (yes there was a Woopie-Ding as well as Hop-sing), and puddles, just to name a few. And I of course had my own. I was known to him as Muffet or anything resembling that word such as Muffy, Muff, or Muffer. This, of course, I am told is due to the fact that my favorite nursery rhyme as a child was "Little Miss Muffet". However, I have to admit, it was getting a bit old when at 49yrs old, he very loudly announced in the middle of a restaurant that "There's my Muffy!", as I walked through the door when we were meeting my parents for dinner last week. He however, didn't care one bit if it embarassed me, as we both knew that in his eyes, I will forever be that little girl who loved to recite "little miss muffet".

My Dad also enjoyed good friends and good company. He made his coffee rounds every morning for his daily dose of "BS with the bunkhouse lawyers" as he would lovingly refer to his various coffee buddies. Knowing my dad though, I suspect that he was the one doing much of the BS'ing as my father definitely had a gift for gab. I remember the first time my dad met my husband Steve. As I'm sure you all know, Steve comes from England. When he first came to Canada he had a very thick accent which was a mix of a few different local accents from across England and Scotland, he grew up as a military brat and they moved around alot. Anyway, the first time my dad met my husband to be was probably one of the first times I ever saw my dad speechless. He couldn't understand a word Steve was saying to him because of his thick accent so all he could do was politely nod with a funny little grin on his face. I decided right then Steve was a keeper. Just kidding, I'm pretty sure I knew before that....maybe.

My dad also had a bit of a stubborn streak. Once he made up his mind about something it was hard to change it. Which in some ways is good but in others....not so much. Unfortunately, I also have this stubborn streak, which I vehemently believe I enherited in some way from him. Yes, I'm a bit like my father. My father was the rock of the family in more ways than one. Him and I butted heads on occasion and unfortunately my poor mom got caught in the middle many many many many times. Our rows were somewhat legendary in our family, they were fast, hot, and fiery and usually ended up with one of us storming out while my mother (and later, my husband) looked on in bewilderment. But, we'd always get over it fast, forgive, and carry-on like nothing ever happened, at times also to my mother's bewilderment.  He loved to get me going and I loved to get him going. It was almost as if we somehow enjoyed it, though neither one of us would ever admit that....

My favorite seat as a child was on top of my father's shoulders. It was a wonderful, high perch and I felt like I was on top of the world. Growing up those shoulders remained strong and helped me bear many burdens. You could always unload onto dad and he would do his damnedest to help you as best he could no matter what. I wasn't the only one those shoulders helped throughout the years. He was always there for his friends and family, anything he could do to help he would do no matter what. Now my dads shoulders are no longer here, but that's ok he also taught me to have strong shoulders.

Rest in Peace Dad I will love and miss you always.

Love Susan