From his home country, Canada, he made it to our small parish in the deep south and stayed here for seventeen years. He always considered it his home.
I can't describe his character in words but I'll try. He was a simple man. He was humble and kind. He was compassionate. He devoted his life to God.
There is one memory that sticks in my mind. During Holy Communion rehearsal as I walked down the aisle I was suppose to genuflect, making sure my knee hit the ground. I was about 6-7 years old and my coordination had not developed to what it is now. He quietly told me to not worry about it and do what I felt was comfortable.
Last time I saw him was a few years ago. He was in his early 90s then. He recognized me but couldn't remember my name.
He will be missed. It is a sad day for us but I know he is in heaven with the angels.
Until next time.