Donald Wagg

April 9, 1923

to

July 31, 1998

Today we will remember you for your service in the Canadian Air Force.  You were so many things, for so many, that I wanted to tell you how growing up in our family was so truly remarkable.

I remember mom telling us of when you met in Vancouver.  She was engaged to marry someone else, but you quickly changed her mind.  One day, I asked her if she ever thought of what her life would have been like if she had married the “other” guy.  She smiled and said she could have never imagined her life any other way.

How brave you must have been to bring your wife and twin boys, get on a ship and travel to South Africa.  To then have Brian and move back to Arizona and have Les, your daughter.    There are many stories mom has shared with me but none were of any sadness or regret but more of adventure and the excitement of travel.

I think of how progressive you and mom were, to adopt children of different nationalities in the 1960’s! I do remember being described at “Those Wagg’s with all those kids in the station wagon”. I know you travelled a lot for work, but felt like you were always thinking of us because of the postcards sent and the excitement of you opening your suitcase to show us what gifts you had picked for us. I can remember dolls, Mexican jumping beans and all the other goodies that I’m sure were half well thought out and half picked up at the airport.

I had a few bumps throughout my teenage years and all I can say to you and mom is that you were the most caring and understanding parents.  I never remember either of you raising your voice…but I do recall mom and a wooden spoon from time to time.  I can’t imagine your love and patience for me as you were 43 when you adopted me , so when I was terror you would have been in your late fifties and early sixties.  I wish I could tell you now how I admire you, but I guess we will have to wait until we meet again for that.

I remember your heart attack and how you decided to retire.  That decision gave you 15 years of joy with your boat, fishing rod and cottage life.  How fortunate was that decision!  I had made a comment to Leslie one day, about how I felt like I was just getting to know you, and she relied, “We all are.”  I’m so grateful for the years at the cottage where you thrived with all of us around you.  Your diary on the counter by the phone that recorded who had visited, what the weather was like, and what the catch of the day was.

My memories of you are very distinct.  Savvy fashionista?  Not so much with those dress socks and velcro shoes that became a part of your retiree uniform.  A true definition of you, that I admired, were your regular talks on your HAM radio.  Coming home from church on Sundays, making a coffee and heading down to your office.  “K6HN7, K6HNZ, this is VE3DVD, Delta Victor Delta, calling.”  You in Ottawa and Ken in California, spoke every Sunday for all the years I can recall.  Our lives were sometime so busy, but the routine was so comforting.

What I really miss after you were gone?  Showing you my new house, a new car I got an amazing deal on, telling you about my new job or what the kids had accomplished.  You always listened and gave praise for what I did.  In fact, I can honestly say, that I know you had unique relationships with all 6 of us.  Me, I was the one who would sneak a smoke with you and always top up your glass so we had more time together.

Thank you dad, for showing me what a privilege it is to be a parent.  You taught me how to love and how to cherish my kids and, as you were for me, to be their biggest cheerleader.

See you someday on the other side!