Psalm 49:15 But God will redeem my soul from the power of the grave: for he shall receive me,
EULOGY TO GEORGE ANTHONY ANDREW DOVE.
Oh Friends, George Anthony Andrew Dove went home to the Lord today, via the rolling hills of Scarborough, Ontario. A most fitting place, since he was born and raised in the lush, undulating terrain of Scarborough, on God’s little acre of Tobago. Tony, that’s the only name I knew, was a distant, older cousin, whom I hadn’t seen or spoken to in several years, though we both lived in the Greater Toronto Area. And since I don’t know that much about his personal life, I can’t really call this a Eulogy. I’m tired writing them this year anyway. Hn! Friends, you’ll understand the contradictions later. But this much I do know: He was a quiet, laid back, kind, unassuming person, who marched to his own drumbeat. This was verified by the large turnout of friends and family, the loving kindness, respect and fondness which everybody had for him. I knew he had some medical problems, but apparently they got worse and eventually felled him a couple years short of his allotted three score and ten. But Friends, the human brain functions strangely yes; very selective and convenient at times, or perhaps it’s the hand of God, rebuking me for my ingratitude, cause it’s only at the cemetery I remembered that on my arrival in cold, blustery Canada, 36 years ago, it was Tony who took me under his wing and taught me some of the finer points of Canadian living; the most important being, the adoption, the embracing, the LOVE of Ice Hockey. Oh Cousin T, how could I ever forget that eh? That wonderful winter of 72, of fire wagon hockey on the small, black and white telly, between the Montreal Canadiens and the Buffalo Sabres, featuring that famous, fabulous French Connection Line! Wow! I never like field hockey, but you explained the finer points of the game, and in two twos, I fell in LOVE with the smooth skating, dipsy doodling Gilbert Perrault and I was hooked on the ice version. And to make matters worse T, as I’m writing this, with the programme from your Memorial Service next to me, showing the young Tony I knew, on the back, and the older version, I didn’t know, on the front, the old brain suddenly dug into the archives and flashed a poignant memory: The first coat I ever wore in Canada, a dark blue, spring like coat, was yours. I vividly remember, on my first full day in Canada, walking along Danforth Ave. to Main Subway Station, in the blizzard of wet snow, an early welcome, in my thin, borrowed coat and thin, leather shoes, going downtown with my mother and wife, to the then big emporium of Sears, to buy winter clothing. So after all of that, how can I not write a Eulogy eh? Ah sorry Cousin T. Don’t know what I was really thinking nuh. Ah have to go back and headline this Bit correctly. Ah doh understand how I could ever forget the kindness you and Pamela showed Norma and I, inviting us into your home, in the then new, sprawling concrete jungle of Crescent Town, and showing us the ropes, making us feel welcome in this strange, cold, foreign land. I know we sort of lost touch when we both moved to suburbia in opposite directions. But how could I ever forget the way you mostly called me ‘Ran’ in that quiet, mellow tone, or the days when I’d check you out at the Dental Technology placed you worked at in the Main/Gerrard area? Ah Cousin T, please forgive the ole fella, like age taking a toll on his mental faculties. (smile) But yuh see people, how the Good Lord stepped in and showed me the error of my ways. Yes Friends, that’s our caring, understanding God! And though it’s always sad when someone we LOVE and cherish moves on to the next threshold, leaving us behind to mourn and grieve, in a sense we should also be joyful and celebrate. Because our loved ones have finally shed the restraining shackles of this mish-mash life, and have been set free, to roam unfettered, the halls and corridors of heaven. They’re gone in body, but their spirits live on in our hearts. And Cousin T, I know you were raised on the rock-like foundation of Christianity that exists in sweet Tobago, so with that faith, and the loving kindness you showed to friends, family and strangers, I’m sure, as Bruh David said, God will redeem your soul from the power of the grave and receive you. As I write this, I’m sure that He’s receiving you in glory, and I know you’re telling Him, in your usual unassuming manner, ‘Oh Lord, I didn’t do anything extraordinary. I was just a regular, down to earth guy.’ But T, those are the ones the Lord considers special. So may your soul rest in peace wirh our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, and one day, mind you, not any time soon now, (smile) we’ll meet again in that big rink in the sky,and talk animatedly of the days of Gil Perreault, Rico Martin, The Flower, the Road Runner, the Pocket Rocket, and the best trio of defencemen ever to grace a blue line; Big Bird Robinson, Spinorama Savard, and Guy La Pointe! Till then…Much LOVE Brother…Much LOVE!…he who has touched hearts with LOVE…for him…Jesus waits with open arms…
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