I think I have mentioned in the past I was the youngest in a family of seven brothers and three sisters. Because of the age spread,, there are a couple of decades from the first to last.
On Thursday we lost another one. His health had not been good (COPD). Lorne had never been able to leave home, due likely to birth complications, which affected mental development. My siblings at one time were asking, "what will we do about Lorne?" But as our parents grew into their 90s, our brother was able to look after daily chores and the words changed to "What would we do without Lorne?" His presence and ability allowed them to live in their home until their natural ends.
After our parents passed in '97 and 2000, there was money set aside for his needs. He moved into a seniors' apartment for 20 years, then into a care home where he flourished.
As the rest of my brothers had joined the RCAF, and were stationed all over, Lorne was the one I grew closest to. I'm not sure he ever forgot anything. He had a phenomenal memory for people, times and places. About a week before he died, he gave me a call and we laughed like the fools we are about family things and funny things.
Wednesday I will make the trip to the home community for the internment.
Lorne's simple wisdom will be part of my life forever. He worried about very little. Probably this is why he lived to 91. ( On the other hand, I have twin siblings who are 92.)
He asked to be cremated with the shirt he is wearing in this picture. Probably wise.
Goodbye, my brother.
Best
Les