Friday 18 December 2009

"Death Of A Dad"

One of my dearest friends, Bryan Bury, lost his Dad, Gene, to lung cancer earlier this week. 


Gene may have been relatively short of stature but he had an abundance of stones. It was no surprise to anyone who knew Gene he'd opted not to go out easily. He fought that heartless son-of-a-bitch disease with every fiber of his being all the way to it's bitter, inevitable end.   


Gene was involved in various aspects of the trucking industry for the majority of his adult life. Though working an exhaustive schedule, he still found time to not only tolerate his wife Donna but his children too. How incredibly unselfish of him! I can barely imagine the concentration that must have taken. Despite all the familial and professional distractions, he somehow managed to carve out a reputation as a "half-assed golfer"; his description not mine by the way.


My favorite personal memory of Gene occurred a few years back. We were using Gene's truck to deliver a huge set to one of my son James' stage productions. I was telling him about his son Bryan and our respective families and friends seeing James play "MacBeth" in Sylvan Lake's annual "Shakespeare on the Lake" festival earlier that summer. I mentioned how Bryan came across a rusty old jack-knife at our local golf course and, quoting Shakespeare said, "Is this a dagger I see before me?"


I was about to describe my amazement that Bryan had even been paying attention when Gene, without taking his eyes off the road, replied, "I have thee not, and yet I see thee still."


I stared at him a good 30 seconds before he barked, "What?! Did you think I skipped high school?"  With that, we nearly peed ourselves laughing. 


All said, Gene Bury was a good fella and I considered him a pal, not just my friends Dad. I'll be satisfied if a few people I knew remember me that way too. 

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