Some 38 years ago we met for the first time upon invite from your beautiful daughter Karen. Anticipation of our meeting was not unlike the anxiety I feel when attending to a dental appointment, fearful that first impressions would not meet your fatherly expectations. Fortunately, the visit coincided with the same weekend you and your family were moving into your new home at Village on the Green and your pre-occupation with other priorities served to deflect your attention elsewhere. After exchanging our cordial "hellos", I joined in to assist with the moving of boxes and furniture. During this process, I noted there was a stack of plywood and lumber in a corner of the basement and after some investigation determined these were intended for construction of storage shelving. Having some experience in carpentry, I volunteered to complete this task. After some moments of doubt and wonderment if I was indeed capable of such work without risking damage to the expensive materials, you gave me the benefit of the doubt and the go ahead to proceed. In a few hours, my work was complete and ready for your inspection. After a few hefty shakes of the shelving unit and meaurements were taken, there was a long pause causing me to perspire with fear. Then there came a firm handshake and the offer of having a cold one at which time you requested I call him Ken. I was in ! The following summer, while you were vacationing at a cottage in Port Elgin, Karen and I again paid a visit and I again was suffering through anxious moments as the visit had an alterior motive, which was to take advantage of the relaxing mood and atmosphere to ask you for your permission and blessing in the marriage of your daughter. Upon my request, we took a private stroll towards the marina and beach. After an ice-breaking conversa tion about our golf game earlier in the day, I finally mounted enough nerve to discuss the intended topic. You were kind in providing me your fatherly threats (sorry, I meant advice) which shall forever remain between the 2 of us. Then, without another word, you stopped abruptly, turned and faced me, firmly should my hand and proceeded with a bear hug. I took this to mean I was in. Upon return to the cottage, you again offered me a cold beverage but this time you advised me I could call you Dad. And Dad it has been ever since. Through all the years, you always treated me as another son and I looked to you as my father. We shared many wonderful moments, traditions and laughter and for these I am forever grateful. Thank you for accepting me into your family circle which I cherish with fondness like my own. Just letitng you know that you will always be missed and loved but never forgotten. We will meet again some day at the 19th hole to share a beverage or two while reminiscing about all the good golf shots we made and forgetting the bad ones. Go in Peace.