On December 6, 2020 I lost a friend of forty plus years to a fatal heart attack after a serious urgent surgery for an aortic aneurysm. He is gone from the earth plane but he will never be gone from my heart or my mind.
Bill would be the last person on earth to admit to or even acknowledge the fact that he was a completely unique and special person. In a way, he was always a little under cover. Few people really knew him well and I am privileged to feel that he allowed me to see those qualities that made him special.
He was brave and adventurous--travelled the world to far-flung places, often alone, and enjoyed the history, the people, the weather, all of it. And he never flaunted these amazing experiences, just as he down-played his many talents. When he walked out of a corporate job with security written all over it to attend art school in Alberta, he took a step that many in their lifetimes would fear to do. While there, he lived in very simple, cheap accommodations, found jobs to support his basic needs while he laid the groundwork for a life-long dream, art in all its forms.
When you see the world through the eyes of an artist, the world takes on a very different form. Whether he plied his trade with graphic art, large oil landscapes or through the lens of a camera, he captured his real love of the earth, nature, and all living creatures on land, in the air and beneath the sea.
No description of Bill would be complete without inserting something about his completely zany, off the wall actions. On the days when Bill, my sister, Jackie, and I met in the Library Bar of the Hyatt Hotel, he announced on arrival one evening after work that he had been walking through Holt Renfrew and saw the most magnificent outdoor jacket he had ever seen at a price that was almost too much to even mention. The only flaw was that this jacket could not be washed or dry cleaned. Did that deter Bill? No, he got it.
On another occasion when Bill and I were discussing the everyday tasks of life, the subject of laundry came up and in particular, fitted sheets. I bemoaned the difficulty of folding them and Bill's response was, "too damn complicated--I just threw all of mine out."
One of a kind for sure, and I will miss him forever, more than words can say.
Needless to say, I miss him very much even though, for the past years, we have mostly been in touch by mail. However, as a writer that is a medium I have taken great pleasure in and I have all his letters on e-mail and snail mail over many years. You, Rita, were his favourite person in the world and I like to think his soul is nearby and comforted by the fact that the people closest to him will love and miss him forever.
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