Saturday, November 18, 2023
Bruce was a very cool dude.
I most vividly remember him at big family dinners where humour was the thing we all orbited. The Lows are genetically hilarious people.
He’s promised to visit us byway of thunder, and I look forward to the visits. I hope for opportunities to ask him the things I never got a chance to— what’s your favourite song? what’s your favourite plant? when did you first realize you loved woodworking?
I share his affinity for cookies, puttering around, playing in the garden, and hand making quirky objects to bestow as treasures to the people I love. His moss covered bird houses were so ornate and beautiful.
I’ll always remember the tiny, heavy, 90s tube tv from his living room that he sold me for a loonie. It was my buddy through the angst my of preteen/teen years staying up late to watch oldies on Turner Classic Movies and music videos before school.
For most of my life, I can recall him overcoming unimaginable feats of survival as he battled myriad chronic illnesses and medical crises. Despite all of the worry on the side of his loved ones, he faced things with an unshakeable confidence and earnest assurance that he’d be fine. And he always was.
He was a busy, and private guy. Big into volunteering. His years spent volunteering at hospitals inspired me to do the same in high school. That shit was not for the faint of heart!
He shared a lifelong romance with my grandma, all the way from grade school.
He passed in his home surrounded by loved ones and well wishes for the journey to come.
Time and distance made it challenging to get to know each other deeply. There’s so many things I wish I knew about him, and that he knew about me. There is great peace in tracing the similarities in our interests, our faces, and our sense of humour.
He left this earthly plain on his own terms, and it feels so completely poetic.
Rest easy, grandpa Bruce.
