Writing an obituary for your dad is weird. It’s not exactly a skill you hope to develop—but since I already wrote one for my mom, I figured, hey, why not go for the sequel? I tried to write this the same way I did hers: with love, honesty, and just enough sarcasm to make him proud (or at least roll his eyes). He would’ve hated anything overly sentimental, so if this makes you laugh and tear up at the same time, then I’ve done it right—and he’s probably somewhere muttering, “Not bad…for a eulogy.”
Ron Hicks
May 17, 1932 ~ December 20, 2022 (age 90)
If you are reading this, then I, Mr. Ron Hicks of Baysville, (also affectionately referred to as “The Horse’s Ass”, by my late wife, Sybil), have been put out to pasture at the age of 90 on December 20th at 2:30 am with my daughter Brenda’s hand in mine and Alexa by my side.
I had a good life, born to Albert and Mary Hicks of Hamilton on May 17, 1932. I was the youngest (and cutest) of the three. Both my brother Albert “Tiny” Hicks and Mona Morrow died prior to me and will be waiting for their baby brother to dote over once again.
I worked at Red-D-Mix Concrete for a decade in Hamilton. Then in 1972 Sybil and I packed up the 5 kids and headed to Baysville. There, we owned and operated Hicks Bus Lines from 1972 to 1989.
We moved to Sybil’s dream house on the Lake in 1975, a beautiful spot to raise our children, even though I couldn’t swim.
I died peacefully at home as I intended following my end-of-life decision. A decision that was supported by family and friends. I had a good run and no regrets. Well, perhaps on occasion I may have had 5…
I couldn’t have asked for a better send off. The question is whether I am heading up or heading down?
I was able to say goodbye to the wonderful dialysis Team at St. Joe’s one last time on Tuesday December 13th.
Vanessa, I looked forward to dialysis only because of your kindness and smiling face.
Tang, I give you special mention too, for your care, your kindness and sense of humour while you hooked my up in dialysis (even though it cost me five bucks)!
And of course, Dr. Rabbat… a true gentleman.
Thank you to Dr. Ryan Cross and Dr. Cross Sr – two extraordinary doctors whom I admire and will be forever grateful.
I am not a particularly sentimental guy and do not like mushy stuff, but to my regular PSW’s Mike and Luciano, thank you for your kindness, your care and for your time – I always looked forward to your next shifts. The Bob Marley music and being called “Papa” always boosted my spirits.
To all those who were busy helping and caring for me in the “in-between” times, I noticed you and I thank you: the hospital porters, the PSW’s, the DARTS drivers, nurse Gina, my palliative nurses, Suzanne and Raman.
My send-off would not be complete without mentioning my dear friend Phil. The talks we had in the lawn chairs out front, trying to solve world issues day after day to which we discovered, was a losing battle. The adventures in your car to my various appointments and the occasional Chinese food take-outs.
Your friendship meant the world to me, and I know we will meet again one day at The Red Pony.
In the last few days, confined to my bed, I made quiet phone calls to friends from years ago and was given the chance for a “thanks for being my friend” conversation. If you didn’t get a phone call, you weren’t one of them or I ran out of time. Next time, pick up!
Anyway, it was a nice walk down memory lane.
I leave behind my children Bob (Carol), Brian (Ginette), Brenda (available), Barb (Gord), Bruce (Yasu). My grandchildren: Rachel, Annie, Emma, Harrison, Clark, Mason, Isaac, Chloe, Orion, Griffin, Caitlin, Megan, Joel and great-grandchild Jayden…make good choices, I will be watching.
These past long weeks during my palliative care, four of my five children were here; as caregivers, administering medications, cooking, heavy lifting and comic relief. We had days of laughter and serious talks which included so many memories with the crazy antics of living in the Hicks household. Thank you for all of it.
I was able to impart some of my “dad wisdom” on them and reminded them of terms I used that should not be forgotten:
“Think positive and don’t give a shit.”
“Seeing a man about a dog.”
“Abba babba boo”
“By the whistling!”
“Do what want Sybil, you will anyway!”
“How are you now? Just checking in.”
“You are quiet little Beavers”
“If you are asked to hold the flashlight, then hold it where I can see.”
“I am already between the sheets”
“When are you getting a hair cut?”
“’I don’t give a shit’ is always a valid answer.”
“Your mom and I were married since October 4th 1958. Seems like yesterday, and you know what a bad day yesterday was.”
One of my pastimes was reading the Hamilton Spectator, more specifically, the obituaries. I was always happy to see that my name was not there, but I guess today it will be.
Even though your mother and I tolerated you most of the time while you were growing up, the last month has been very difficult, but you stepped up when I needed you most. I am sure some of the support was motivated with a bit of good-natured competition of who would rise to “favorite child” status before my passing, it was appreciated just the same.
So, before I start the pontoon boat to meet your mother at the buoy, I will announce the result of favourite child status.
My favourite child’s name starts with B.
Ron
(P.S. Oh, and apparently, my Celebration of Life will be held in the summer of 2023 sorry I couldn’t be around to hear what you have to say. Also, I was a founding member of the Baysville Lions Club so you are welcome to donate in my memory.)
Oh hey—still here? Excellent. Let’s take this to the next level: my newsletter! I send it out semi-regularly (read: when I remember) with cool stuff like what I’m writing, reading, obsessing over, and occasionally baking. If you’re into cozy vibes and creative encouragement, you’ll feel right at home.
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