Ron A Smith.com

On the night of October 2nd, Geoff Shepherd at the age of 83 passed on peacefully at home. Beloved husband to his late wife Dilys (1999). A loving father to Denise and her husband Jim, Val and her husband Ron. Proud Grandfather to Carol, James, Jeff, Ron, Natalie and Great-Grandfather of Benjamin, Evan, Lily and Jaxon.

Yesterday I lost not only a Grandfather but one of my closest, most cherished friends.

Since his passing, I have been surrounded by friends who have been of great support in this time of healing. In recounting our times together, many have expressed how fortunate I was to have had a relationship with Granddad that neared more of a brotherhood. A friendship that some never encounter in a lifetime. I have always been tremendously grateful for my friendship with Granddad. As I continue to tell the many tales about my times with him to my community, the same sentiments are continually repeated: amazement and envy. With every passing day, I understand even more how truly blessed I have been to have him so closely woven into my life’s story and recognize the value of his imprint on my journey.

Growing up in England, Granddad didn’t have much impact in my life. He was a “typical” Granddad. Holidays, presents and pictures were all I knew as he lived on the other side of the country. At the age of 7, my family decided to immigrate to Canada. As before, my Granddad and Nanny would ‘cross the pond’ to visit and stay with us from time to time. It was in my first year of high school that everything started to change.

The catalyst was my Nanny’s unexpected passing. As a typical 14 year old, I never gave it too much thought at the time at how this event must have devastated my Granddad. Not only did he lose a loving partner of 48 years, but his overall life story that he had planned was ripped away from under him. My Grandparents were World-class travelers. When they weren’t visiting with us in Canada, they were traveling Europe; their lives a continuous vacation. They had settled into a great community of friends in the south of France, where they spent the later of their days.

After Nanny’s passing, this lifestyle changed for Granddad. His time spent in Canada become longer and his worldly travels fewer. Finally, he moved into our home where he became a sort of roommate to me, his room being directly across from mine. Looking back that should have been so odd for me, but that was just how things came together and I never questioned it.

Granddad spent his days listening to classical music, walking our dog gypsy, swimming, cooking and reading the paper. His evenings were spent with a scotch in one hand and the channel changer in the other. Everyday when I got home from school, there he was, studying some language, quizzing me on current affairs and preparing some type of soup in the kitchen. Granddad always made dinner. No pizza or processed foods. Fresh veggies, sprouts, meat and some type of herb, spice…. or branches.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but my Granddad was molding me. I find that through watching him over the years I have come to respect and enjoy the real fine things in life: family, food, friends, conversation, music, reflection and, of course, a fine glass of scotch.

Granddad was with me to experience a great many of my firsts in life; the first time I drank too much (can still hear him as he laughed from his chair), my first cigar, gifted by him, which didn’t agree with my stomach (again, he laughed from his chair). My entire teen years have my Grandfather throughout them, from sharing wisdom, teaching and lending an ear. He was a great listener.

During the Second World War, he served the English Royal Air Force proudly. His love and fascination with planes born from these years never left him. When he started taking flying lessons in Sarnia, I remember him taking me up in the plane and flying over Sarnia passing over mine and my aunt’s house. He would let them know he was coming before hand and they would be out in the garden waving away!!

My relationship with my Grandfather changed drastically when I turned 21. No longer was I the teenaged roommate. I was a young man, working full-time and out on my own. But we always found a way to schedule times together almost every week. Granddad would come for dinner and we would cook our meals, watch shows together and he would spend the night. During these times our talks matured. He really opened up about his life. Failures, triumphs, fears, regrets, love and the day to day grind. Without realizing it, he became my confidant.

Geoff was getting older now entering his 80s, so traveling to Europe on his own became more demanding. He required a companion on his travels to do the heavy lifting, the hours of driving, the drinking and dining. I was the fortunate one who became this travel buddy. Every September, for 3 consecutive years, we set sail for Europe. The agenda was pretty broad: go to Switzerland, Italy and France. The rest we made up on the go, speeding down the auto route sporting a Mercedes Benz, sipping on the finest wines and eating the freshest of foods. This was Granddad’s style, Granddad’s way of life.

Geoff had acquired many a friend over the 40 years of travel to Europe. We stayed at Hotels which were once bed and breakfast havens that had flourished over the years. Geoff was on a first name basis with the proprietors at all these hotels, which were a family grown business he’d seen develop from the ground up. They were his community across the continent, some of his closest friends.

I was introduced to his “other family” in a small spot on the southern coast of France called Val-Rose. It is here that he and so many other vacationers from England settled in their trailers. Geoff spent over 10 years of his retired life there with his wife and, after she passed, another 10 years visiting. He made lifelong bonds with new and old friends here. We were always welcomed when we arrived. Lots of conversation, food and of course good drink. The residents are so amazing and I am so thankful he introduced them to me. These people are so full of love and contentment. Val-Rose embodies my Granddad’s way of life. It is his truest home. It is a place I hope to visit many more times throughout my life.

Geoff and I were to set sail again this year. Unfortunately, his body could no longer keep up with the energy of his mind and soul. Witnessing the failing physical form of a man so vibrant and full of life was one of the hardest times in my life. Knowing it was even harder on him made it all the more painful to experience.

On the eve of what should have been our departure for our fourth tour to Europe, I was by my Granddad’s side at the Sarnia hospital. After pouring us each a healthy glass of my finest scotch, we looked each other in the eye and knew what the other was thinking. We cried together. We cried, knowing “you’re going to get better” didn’t need to be said, this was no time for superficial pleasantries. Our bond, the love and respect we have for each other was too genuine for such palliative falsehoods. Through tears, I expressed my greatest sorrows in losing him, in his not being able to meet my future children. He apologized for not being able to meet my future wife and attend my wedding. He wished I were 20 years older or, better yet, that he was 20 years younger.

In his last weeks, Geoff was constantly surrounded by his loving family. He was peaceful and he was ready for his next journey. Granddad and I talked about death from time to time. Having seen the world as he had, having experienced as much as he could, he wasn’t afraid of what was to come. Death, for him, was the next chapter, the next adventure.

Granddad, wherever you are, I wish you all the best in this new adventure.
I will forever recount stories from your journey and will never forget our times together.
Know that I will carry you in my heart, always.
Your Grandson, your friend.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about areas in my life where I am lacking. For if I am not asking this question I have the habit of growing complacent or worse yet, thinking there is nothing wrong to correct.

I’ve been reflecting about where I go/going/gone wrong and have I at least learned anything from these reflections.

If I am being honest with myself I would say I am most certainly prideful, followed up with its byproduct – conceitedness. “I’m not conceited” I thought to myself the other day and then in my readings a day later I came across this: “If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed.”

I think pride to be the greatest sin out there because of what it causes people to become. Where they focus their time and finances, your views and how you treat others are all drastically bent and distorted by pride.

I don’t think the issue is pride by itself. It’s when you take your pride and attach it to other vises in your life.

Greed is a vise in my life. My greed enjoys more money and with this money I enjoy my house, home reno’s, vacations, better drink and food, entertainment with friends and obviously fashionable apparel. But only to a certain point. If I inject my un-checked pride into the mix of my greed it mutates it into something much worse.

This feeling comes upon me and I start to yearn for a better house not because I need a place to lay my head but because someone else lays theirs better than mine. My vacations need to be more exotic, expensive and further because someone may have one upped me. My food and drink and who I enjoy those things with need to be of a certain class…. Pride gets me to a point where what I have isn’t enough and the only thing that curbs my pride is climbing the ladder higher than others.

If you read this and think “that’s sad Ron, I’m not like that” I would think that’s a good indication that pride has you all rapped up my friend. The problem with pride is that it’s in competition with everyone else as pride is competitive by nature. I know I am prideful because I get annoyed when I see it in others. It is because I wanted to be the big shot at the party that I am so annoyed at someone else being the big shot.

Two of a trade never agree.

Recently my Grandfather has fallen ill – very ill.
3 hearts attacks in the last month, his heart is failing him daily.

After a very unstable stay at the hospital he has been sent home with the hope of recovery of getting comfortable to be at final rest.
This pains me very much. My Grandfather is one of my best friends. I don’t just see him as a relative. He is someone whom has spoken a great deal into my life.
Weekly drinks at Paddies with our reserved seats and yearly vacations to Europe; our conversations have made me rather worldly.

That was then and statistically speaking my better days with him have come to a close. When he was looking his worst we had “the talk.” If you have ever dealt with someone who is on their death bed you know what I mean. It was very intimate. He and I communicated honestly and freely – we said our good byes. We cried deeply about him not being at my wedding, meeting my wife and holding my children. He said he wished that I was 20 years older or better yet, that he was 20 years younger.

It’s tough watching a man who has lived a full life still capable of living an even fuller one. It pains me more when you watch so many people just wasting away their youth.

My Grandfather requires 24 hour attention and I will do my part with the rest of my family to be there, assist and care for. However as I do this, the thoughts of it not being fair or “if only we had more time” wont be present. Granddad and I have had an amazing run together. What I have experienced with him trumps many people’s experiences with their own relatives. He and I have said our good byes.

When he and I catch each others eye from across the room we know what both of us are thinking. He has told me for years that this “way” of life is not for him. He dreads it and now he is dealing minute by minute with it. It’s hard for me to watch him because in his mind I know he is locked down, trapped and tormented.

Even with a “full” recovery things won’t return to way he wanted to live. My Granddad is very active. Daily he works out, walks the dog, swims and plans vacations over seas. He keeps sharp by studying language (he has learned 3 in the last 10 years), reading countless books and learning the ways of the internet and email to keep in touch with people from around the globe.

I miss that person. From what is occurring now I feel so disconnected. I don’t like seeing it just as much as he doesn’t like being it. Even though I am putting on a strong face I don’t like my time with it all. This isn’t the man or the time I want to remember. I remember someone much different. Is that horrible? I am trying to see the positives of it all however if I am being honest with myself I must admit that I would wish him a quick, peaceful passing over a drawn out, flat lining, uncomfortable last few months.
Part of it is selfish and part of it is me knowing his real wishes. In the mean time I will pray, fast, reflect and sit by my Grandfathers side.

I am starting to see more and more the two paths people live by when it comes to the prospect of being in a serious, loving relationship with someone. The first type is a person who is comfortable in their skin being single. They don’t approach the single life as a hindrance nor see themselves as lacking, needing or the odd person out. If a relationship presents itself to that person it is seen as a bonus, adding to their already functioning life.

The other people are those who crave a relationship. They yearn and seek out to such an extreme that they tend to make an unwise choice that most likely will lead to sadness, dissatisfaction and ultimately, a broken heart. I would say that the majority of the adult single population fit into this way of thinking. Desiring a loving, nurturing and safe relationship, they do it: they settle.

Settling is entering into a relationship with a less than desirable mate for the sake of escaping the single life. Fed up with breakups and longing for a stable mate, I would imagine when one “settles” that the “nice” feeling of being with that new person only exists due to the relief of escaping the single life. Being caught up in the swirl of desperately trying to find “the one” and the constant ticking of that annoying inner clock reminding people that they are getting older by the moment, can cause this to happen I am sure.

So why settle? Well, I think it has SO much to do with how we are all “programmed” to view our life in accordance with relationships. We are raised to believe that the ideal life is one in which we fall in love, marry, have children, go on vacation, grow a family, retire and grow old. This ideology is instilled in us from day one.

As we enter the dating game we are weaving our way through relationships, trying to decipher what type of person best fits our needs to sustain this healthy and loving relationship as described above. If a person does not find this truly compatible mate, they will most likely opt to………… settle.

Settling may bring temporary happiness, however the key word is temporary. When a person is in a relationship that is not the ideal one for them, they are choosing to close off the option of finding true love. This is not fair to either person in the relationship. I like to believe that we all desire love, having someone to care for us above all else, the feeling of being safe and secure in the arms of another. I don’t think setting produces those results.

Remaining single and waiting to meet someone that will provide you with a truly loving relationship is wise. Be pleased that you are abiding to your standards. Falsely believing that continuing to remain single is such a dreadful choice, and settling is the option you choose, you will be losing the prospect of truly enjoying your life bonded with someone you undoubtedly love.

What if finding true love isn’t what you desire and actually isn’t the goal.
Can people settle and actually mean to do so? Are some people’s expectations set to high and by trying to reach their target cause their issue of singleness? Are people who settle more realistic? Can one argue that settling is better than being alone?

We live in a world of instant gratification. Everything is geared towards you, making you happy and advancing you further. It’s easy to see then not only is this a self centered driven culture, it’s actually encouraged.

In life you are told over and over “you only have one life to live, you might as well do what makes you happy” and a lot of people are attempting just that. It appears though that making oneself happy and being concerned only about oneself are seen as the same.

It would make sense then why there is so much focus on “you.” The trouble and pitfall it appears is that we actually think we can fill this void of “happiness” as if there were a meter to indicate “total happiness.” I haven’t yet met a person who said to me “I’m full on happy, I can’t possibly have another slice.”

The pursuit of happiness is an endless race; never ending and always evolving. There is no satisfaction. People can be happier for a period of time but the need for happiness is always lurking close by. As soon as we accomplish something that makes us happy (food, sex, tv, sports, sleeping) we soon feel lacking and want the exact thing soon there after.

Knowing then that we will never fill this void of happiness says to me how important it should be when attempting to figure out what it is that actually makes us happy. Furthermore how dangerous it can be if we pick things that are destructive to us.

If we can take a minute and admit “I am a selfish person” and really understand that, it will probably help you see what you spend your time doing for the pursuit of happiness.

The more I journey on with life the more I am realizing and becoming disgusted with the time I spend on making myself happy. It’s not that self happiness isn’t important and shouldn’t be pursued, it’s just I see how sad some of the things are that I think make me happy. If we believe that we only have one life to live, it’s sad to know I spend so much time doing rather dull and selfish things with the sparing time I have.

On a brighter note I am finding that the more time I spend with other people; investing, partaking and being of service to, I receive the same sense of happiness that fills my otherwise selfish motives.

I guess what I am trying to say here is that finding, chasing and becoming happy isn’t bad. Not at all. How we try to attempt it is the problem. I think if we took sometime out of our busy, self orientated lives and actually invested in someone else asking the question “what would make them happy” I think we would quickly come to the conclusion that serving others makes you happy as well, if not more happy; with the added bonus that you took one step away from being a narcissistic prick.

What’s so dangerous about this breeded culture of selfish happiness is that there are roles in a persons life where being selfish cannot exist. Roles like husband, wife, mother, father, etc. Obviously you can see the dilemma. If a person spends their entire life making only them self happy and then become a Dad, can you really get mad or be surprised at that person when they apply their selfish ways to their newly appointed selfless position? Its not that they don’t have the capacity to be selfless and serve in that capacity, it’s that all they know is selfishness and that is a hard habit to break.