Instead of buying Christmas gifts this year, we are planning on putting our money to better use by helping the children of Africa survive malaria. One net costs ten dollars. We can change the world one life at a time.

Please visit the following site and make a donation. My father would be proud of me for helping the people of Africa. He loved his time on that continent.

Spread the Net

Miss you, Dad.

I think of you every day.

Love you.

Hi Dad,

I was thinking today that I wished you were here still to talk to. Christmas was not the same without you and probably never will be. It doesn't seem to mean as much anymore. January 28 will always be a difficult day, and the winter seems so much longer and colder now without you here.

The kids and I are moving again, tragic really. The older I get the more difficult it gets to undertake such a huge venture. If you were around you would tell me to suck it up and get it done. So that's what I am doing. (Could you ask the guy upstairs to take it easy on me for awhile? I am not sure I can continue to shoulder the weight my life seems to put on my body.)

We had an excellent visit this Christmas from Danny and Shannon from Newfoundland. You would be so proud of him and his girlfriend. What a fun visit we had. The kids loved spending time with them and so did I. They were very kind and we did a wonderful tour of Ottawa. When I saw all the Christmas lights downtown I thought about all the times you and mom would put us in the car and drive around the city looking at all the lights. Trully wonderful memories. Robert also visited us and it was awesome to spend time with him (now I have to convince him to turn off that Blackberry once in awhile). We are going to Toronto for Easter this year, Aaron is being baptised and I am his Godmother.

I went to mass on Christmas Eve and spent most of it (the sermon was really boring - sorry to say) thinking about the time you spent on this earth. I think very few people live the kind of life you lived. You travelled the globe and made friends everywhere you went. You saw things and places the rest of us just dream about. I think you loved your life, right up until the end. You have four children that are strong and compassionate - each in our own way. You and mom raised us well and I hope that I do half as good a job that you both did for us. And no - I still have not become a very good cook. That did not rub off on me. And my dough just won't rise.

We all miss you and think about you often, I have a great picture on my bedside table of you and Robert in Toronto on the waterfront. My only regret was that I didn't get to take you up to the Muskokas like I wanted to. You would have loved the drive.

Rest well dad, and pray for all of us. Enjoy your time, and we will think of you often.

Love Lisa

It is snowing today, Dad. I can't remember if you liked the winter. There's no doubt you enjoyed the sun. On more than one occasion I found you sitting outside of your apartment building on Lowther soaking up the rays at a time most people were concerned about heat stroke. That is a joy you definitely passed on to me.

I'm heading to South Africa next week to see a client and will think of you and how much you would have enjoyed it. I found it sad when your health had reached a point where you could no longer travel. I know this bothered you as well and that you felt trapped in Toronto and in a declining body. I hope you have seen better and bigger things these last two years.

We just visited you Dad at Mount Pleasant Cemetery - me, Jack, Aaron and Chantel. I'm glad we chose you a spot inside the arboretum, it is very warm and cozy on days like this. Even though you've been gone two years, Jack remembers you, or at least he thinks he does. It is hard to know whether he is remembering actual events or stories we've told him after you were gone. But he definitely remembers the day of your service. Last night he reminded me that he'd left you a little stuffed lamb in the niche along with your ashes. You never met Aaron but Chantel sees you in him and that is good.

As I said, it is snowing today. Not a day for much hope or joy, no sunshine around the corner. But a good day to reflect on your life and to remember all the good you brought to the world, including your four kids. Mom misses you too and one day, hopefully not for decades from now, she'll join you. She is well and we in Toronto wish we saw her more often.

I've reached a point in my life where I'm facing much change. I'm trying to follow your life lesson and embrace these changes with an open mind and strength. As you've also taught us, life is short with no guarantees as to health or happiness. I do my best to live for the moment, if not always perfectly in the moment.

There's a song from The Lion Ling called "He Lives in You". I heard it the other day and thought of you of course. I also thought of Jack and Aaron and how parts of you and me will live on in them. I discreetly wiped away a couple of tears from the corners of my eyes as I listened to that song - not necessarily tears of sadness, maybe just tears that life is always moving on with no time to really enjoy the good times.

I'm doing well. My kids are wonderful. They are truly a gift for which I thank Chantel. I hope one day when they are much much older they will think of their own father with fondness and some sadness and recognize a part of him (of me) in them.

Happy Day. Stay warm, have a cup of tea and keep the music playing.

Love Rob and all of your family.

Soon after my mother's mother passed away, my father took all of us to the Bahamas for an extended stay. I am sure he was trying to make Mom feel better as she struggled through her grief. Different surroundings, sun, anonymity, and the beach helped.

I didn't get to the beach after my father passed away two years ago today; that was just the beginning of a long tough road for me. I should have packed my bags soon after and headed for some place like Tuscany to weather the storm, but I didn't.

You find out a lot about the people around you when something like this happens in a family.

My father wasn't the most conventional person you might meet in a life, but he had a very good heart. He loved us.

Since my sister sent me this photograph at Christmas, I thought how happy Dad was when it was taken: he had his family, the sun (which he always worshipped), and probably a nice cold drink in his hand, saluting life and love. I thought it was a fitting picture to post today. In the foreground you can see one of our baby blankets.

Love you, Dad.

Hi, Rob:

I have to admit that I found your story fascinating and of course, very sad. I would like to offer you my heart-felt condolences on the loss of your father. Thanks so much for getting in touch, Rob. I really appreciated reading your message and wonder at the complexity of the universe. They say there are no coincidences.

Best regards,

Moya

I could not help but contact you after one night whilst bored I googled myself and came across the page dedicated to your late father.

I am sure you will be amazed at my story and I can assure you it is no hoax.

To cut a long story short, My Father, Ronald Mason died just over a year ago in Winchester England. He had a massive stroke and heart failure at the age of 76. Dad was essentially happiest as an ex soldier but like your father was a bit of a jack of all trades. Whilst not having the artistic bent that your father had, he loved "a good painting but not that modern crap!!" once he left the Army he bounced around all sorts of jobs until he retired then he was really happy because he then became heavily involved with the Regimental association and became once again part of the Army. Just two weeks after he died, he was due to meet Her Majesty the Queen at the 250th anniversary of the birth of his regiment. As he could not make it (!!) I was asked to represent him and was introduced to the queen as 'Ginger Mason's' son. She remembered my father and we had quite a chat about his illness and how much he had done for the regimental association. It was a very touching moment and I am sure he was very proud of me.

I hope you don't mind me contacting you like this but I hope you agree that it was way too much of a coincidence to let go. Just having a look around and found dad's name on his old association website; not much but if you follow this link you will find him:

http://www.greenjackets-net.org.uk/krrc/obit2006.html

I hope your family is well and I am sorry for your loss.

With Warmest regards,

Rob Mason

I love you, Dad. I miss you a lot.

This is another paper on grief and how it can affect you:

Factors Associated with Filial Grief Following the Death of an Elderly Parent

Merry Christmas, Everyone.

We just finished making my father's Seaman's Log into a flash movie.

- To turn a page: Click on the outside corners of the page.
- You may also drag the side or corner of a page to turn it.

Flash Seaman's Log

Dad with Santa Claus

Merry Christmas!



Miss you, Dad

My father and mother owned an art gallery called Gallery Mason. This is an inside shot of one room:



Miss you, Dad

My father loved the colour blue.

Here's a lovely blue flower for you.



Miss you

My father spent a good amount of time working in Ghana in the 1980s and early 90s. He really liked the country and found the people there friendly.

"An internet campaign to instigate African peoples to take the issue of global climate change more seriously and compel their governments to takes steps to influence the developed world to adopt lifestyles that would reduce the level of greenhouse gases emission into the global environment was launched on Friday. The campaign, dubbed StopKillingUs.org, is also a website that seeks to inform ordinary Africans about the causes and effects of climate change and also provided the opportunity for such ordinary Africans to let their voices be heard on the issue of climate change. The message was clear: Africa cannot adapt to climate change, Africa needs a reserve in climate change to survive."
-- http://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/artikel.php?ID=114888

The official song for the campaign can be downloaded on StopKillingUs.org or here.

I thought this article on grief might be useful to some of you who read here.

Meanings Adult Daughters Attach to a Parent's Death

Hi, Dad:

The book I did with David was just published. I thought you might like to know that. You were always interested in my work. Proud that I got educated. Proud of me just for being me. What a gift that was; acceptance. Thanks.

Miss you

Hi, Dad:

These are the pies I made to bring to Dan's for Thanksgiving dinner.

Thought you'd like to see them.

Love,
Moya

Hi, Dad:

I know that Thanksgiving Day was one of your favourite holidays of the year, and we all miss your enthusiasm for it. Happy Thanksgiving Day to You, wherever you are.

I know I haven't written here in a very long time. I would write more often but it is such a public venue that it is difficult for me to continue to expose my feelings and emotions for others to read. I had thought about making this a private site for the family but it is far better to make sure that the world remembers you and your old friends have a place to go when you come into their minds: when they remember that you were the one who framed that picture in the hallway or the one who came at suppertime to their house to hang artwork, just in time for a special party. I remember sitting in the car outside many homes listening to the radio waiting for you to finish up so we could go home. People remember you, Dad. Fear not oblivion. I love you and think of you every day. You are in my dreams so much more often these days and I find it such a comfort. Wish you were here.

Moya

Dad, I just wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday. You would have been 78 today. I plan to visit your monument after work to say hello. Jack and Aaron are doing wonderfully. I wish you could have seen how Jack has grown and met our little Aaron. We miss you.

Rob

Hi. Dad,

I miss you as much as ever. Wish you were here. I was thinking how much you loved life the other day; how you had so much stamina and courage that you lived almost three lives instead of one. I don't measure up very well, but as you know, I have done the best I could with what I had/have. Sometimes, it isn't good enough, but I figure if you were here you would tell me that some times life gets the best of us and not to dwell on the negatives.

I have a picture of you with your snazzy-going-on-holiday-shorts on in the most perfect silver wooden frame. I think it was taken in D.C. when Rob was a babe in arms. Those days were a long time ago now, but I still remember.

As always,
Your loving daughter Moya

Happy Easter, Dad. We all thought of you a lot this weekend. Mom recalled how much you enjoyed a good ham on Easter Sunday. Chantel and I spent Saturday night in a hotel overlooking Niagara Falls. Jack was very excited as was Aaron in his own 4-month old way. I wish you could be here to see the video we made. You would barely recognize Jack these days - he's grown so much over the last 14 months since you left us. He still remembers you and calls you "Grandpa Bobo". I hope you are out there somewhere, at peace.

Love Rob

Hi Moya,
I hope you are all doing well and coping. I know that your loss has left such a big void in your lives and nothing will ever be the same again. I am sure you have your good days and bad. All the wonderful memories and the fact that your dad is watching over you all will keep you going. Say hi to your family for me.Take care.

Love,
Adriana

My Dad loved watching curling. He would have loved to watch the Newfoundland team doing so well. I have watched the games for him and am learning more each time. I can understand why he liked it so much. They are going for a gold medal tomorrow and I am planning to watch the game.

Here's thinking of you, Dad. Miss you every single day.

Love you,
Moya

We want to thank you for your message about our father. I could picture everything you described because I got to visit Stratford in the late 90s with a friend of mine. It is a very beautiful town. I have actually considered moving there.

Thanks for taking the time.
Moya

I just happened on your website while searching for some information, working from my home in Stratford Ontario. I have spent the past few minutes reading about your fathers life. These memorial pages are a beautiful tribute to someone who obviously touched the lives of many people. I often eat lunch on a bench by the river that is not fifty feet from your dad's childhood home. I go there to relax, think and watch the progress of one particular pair of swans who make their nest there, every year, in a hollowed out tree stump on the bank. Just across the street, about one hundred feet to the East of the house (in millennium park) they have recently planted the Birnham Wood Arboretum which is adjacent to beautiful gardens, lily ponds and a nature trail, as well as the Stratford Art Gallery. After reading about your dad I couldn't help but think that he would like how his old neighbourhood has turned out

It's been a year now since our father has passed away, a year of contemplation about our own lives and how we live them. His death made me understand that this is not a dress rehersal, we get one shot to live our lives fully and compassionately.

When I pass I hope to be remembered for the good I did, for my father did much good. I hope to be remembered for the love I share with friends and family for he loved us and his friends had many laughs in his company.

I miss my father, but know he helps to guide my steps. I weep for our loss but know my dad is resting peacefully with his mom and dad waiting for us to join them.

I leave this poem for us - for our father - a tribute to our love for him and the loss we feel each day we live our lives.

GoodBye

I need to say goodbye although you're with me. I stand beside your grave, yet you are here.

I miss you terribly and hope you miss me,
But when I turn to you, you're always near.

I talk to you as though you lived within me,
Not changed but simply moved in from outside.
I know each day you must a little leave me,
But here, as always, you must be my guide.

You were and are and will be, just as ever,
In many minds and hearts, not only mine.
No physical event can such love sever;
Death is a dimension, not a line.

And so goodbye does not mean you are gone:
So long as I still love you, you live on.

Love you Dad

Dad, it has been a year since you left and now a year and two days since we last spoke. We visited your grave today and left you a dozen yellow roses. We also played you some music that we think you would have enjoyed. Jack was a little confused about where you are but in any event he remembers and loves you. Aaron, our new addition, visited you for the first time. I will never forget the morning that you died and I still find it difficult to dwell too long on your passing. I wish you all the best and do hope you are somewhere looking down on us.

Love,
Rob

Hi, Dad:

It's been a year since you passed away. A year today. I stayed up late last night so that I would sleep past the exact time this morning. It is still so fresh, the pain. A year has taught me a lot about myself and the people around me. It hasn't made me any stronger. Not at all. I counted on you to be here and now you aren't. I can say that I know I have to accept it and I do, but just barely. I haven't traveled that far, it seems. My inner thoughts tell me that I won't accept your passing anymore than I do this day. I have to accept that, too. Sometimes I have to stuff my thoughts of you down and try to block them out because releasing them and mulling them over hurt too much. I feel bad that I do this, but sometimes I have to.

Louis has made sure that there are vases of flowers around me to help keep my spirits up and we keep very busy with work, just like you always did. I am still in touch with Aunt Kim and that connection has helped me learn more about you. I couldn't get to the old house today because the winter has finally shown its face and it is very cold, too cold for me to go out.

But I also celebrate your life by remembering your accomplishments and how much you taught me about so many things. I think of the days when I would visit you at MUN and when I worked at the art gallery. I often think of you out in the garden and how much you loved being outside. Mostly I think of when we would talk on the phone and how many laughs we would have. I love you, Dad. I love you very much and miss you more than I can say.