David G. Stewart

Dear Dad,

Looking at your reclining chair and seeing it empty is a cold reminder that you are gone. However, it’s easier to imagine that you’re out for a walk in the fields or woods here at the farm.  Or maybe you’re at the house in Florida with Mom and you’ll return soon, as you always did sometime in April after a winter of sunning yourself while we all stayed home, enduring the cold and snow you disliked so much.  When the weather warmed up, you returned to your mountain and started seeds to grow your giant garden.

Growing up on the farm here in Charlotte County, you learned the value of hard work, self-sufficiency, reliability, and ingenuity from Grampie and Grammy Stewart.  You were a wonderful big brother to John, Allison, and Marion.

We know how proud your parents, Gilman and Louise, were of you.  How could they not be?  Your quest for adventure took you far from home to other provinces and countries through your work with Teleglobe Canada and during your many travels with Mom.

When she died in January, your whole world changed.  How could it not?  You were completely devoted to her for 64 years.  You showed how much you loved her every day in so many ways.  And every one of us kids and grandkids knew we were loved too.

You were the keeper of local lore and family history.  Our ancestors and the colourful characters who called this place home came to life through the stories you told.  You will also live on through our memories of you—and when we continue to tell the stories you shared with us and the experiences we had with you while you were here.

Kind, generous, funny, intelligent—a man who was a giant in our eyes.  Even in tough times, you always had a positive disposition, often saying, "There’s better weather ahead," and "The sun will come up tomorrow."

We all have special memories of you.  For David (Seham), a surprise adventure with you comes to mind:

"Dad, you were the best at surprises.   One day, I visited you at work.  ‘You want to have some fun?  Come with me,’ you said.  We went to the Halifax airport and got in a twin-engine prop plane.  We flew for an hour over the Atlantic.  Then you pointed to the starboard side.  Below us was Sable Island.  We flew so low I could see the wild ponies and seals.  It was stark beauty.  We were travelling to see if there had been any undersea cables pulled up by dragger fishing boats.  I looked at you, Dad, and I saw the boy inside.  You were having an adventure and just wanted to share it with me.  I felt like we were a couple of teenage friends—except you were my Dad."

Carolyn (Bruce) wants you to know that you were her only childhood hero:

"No matter what, I could always depend on you for solid advice—at times not recognizing immediately how solid it was.  You were also very generous with your time.  It took me a few decades to truly appreciate this.  One of the most giving examples for me was you driving me to piano lessons.  For two years, you left work early every second Thursday and drove an hour and a half, waited an hour during my lesson, and then drove home—altogether, a four-hour journey.  I loved how much you loved spending time with your grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  You enjoyed hearing about both their accomplishments and impishness.  But mostly, you enjoyed your time with them.  Your door was always open, they spent weeks with you running barefoot during the summers and for a week during numerous winters in Florida.  You always made them laugh and never missed any of their birthdays."

Laverne (Rob) remembers the patience you had and how you never responded with angry words or reprimands, no matter what she did.  You always found teaching moments and never lost your temper, even when you had reason to:

"You gave me the freedom to enjoy a childhood with many adventures.  You always made even the simple things fun.  One of my earliest memories is you holding me in your arms as we picked cherries.  You taught me to love carrots.  We pulled them from the garden, washed them, and boiled them in a pot outside on the Coleman stove while we listened to Roy Orbison and Glen Campbell songs on a portable record player.  I remember our times at the cottage.  You would spend hours driving the speedboat as I learned how to water ski. You woke me up after midnight one winter weekend at the cottage, insisting we get dressed in our snowmobile suits so we could go for a run in the falling snow under the moonlight.  I will cherish our times together—including right up to when you were called home."

You were the father everyone wishes for—and weren’t we the lucky ones to have you for our dad.  There was no better Grampie than you.  You made magic out of ordinary moments. Dhavita (Ben) says:

"My fondest memories with you, Grampie, were simple summer days on the farm. You’d watch us swim in the pool, help us turn the shed into a playhouse, drove us in the back of the old truck and always encouraged us to explore ‘your mountain.’  Grampie, you were always offering a story, a joke, or a treat from your hidden stash.  See you in the funny papers."

Maya (Kunal) says she loved the constant presence of you in her life:

"We moved around a lot as kids, but you, Grampie, were constant and never changed. Between the many visits to your home in Florida and spending our summers in New Brunswick, you always made sure we had fun and embraced being kids.  We would pick blueberries, ride your lawn mower or swim in the pool.  Remember, Grampie, how you showed us how to take snap peas, make boats out of them and have all of us race them down the pool?  Then, in the evenings, you’d light a fire and we’d make s’mores.  We would run barefoot across the grass and watch the sunflowers grow—Grampie, you made summer, summer."

Mary Louise (Jack) says she loved her visits with you and Nanny in Florida and the farm.

"You would take me to the backyard every morning so I could pick a fresh orange from the tree to have with my breakfast.  And I loved going for drives with you.  We would stop at the spring and collect the magical spring water from it.  I remember digging worms to use as bait for fishing trips.  I loved our many walks in the blueberry fields and how we would stop and eat as many as we wanted.  You taught me how to drive—and you drove me to my high school prom."

Keirtan (Victoria) and Nick share fond memories of fishing with you all over Charlotte County, but not catching many fish:

"I enjoyed our drives to each fishing spot, with you telling stories of your youth and cracking your usual dirty jokes," Keirtan says.

Nick adds: "I liked it when you’d tell me stories from your life or from Greek mythology—or even just having dinner at the farm when you’d make spaghetti with your ‘awesome sauce.’ I’ve never had spaghetti I liked better."

Alex wants you to know that he has fond memories of being with you too:

"I remember, Grampie, when you took me on the lawn mower and we mowed the lawn together.  I baked you a pie when you were in the hospital.  You liked apple pie the most of all.  When we talked together, Grampie, you were was always smiling.  I am sad you and Nanny are gone, but you are together."

For your great-grandkids, Harrison and Delilah, you continued with the fun whenever there was an opportunity.

We could write forever about the many ways you expressed your love and generosity—which extended to all of our relatives, friends, and neighbours.  You never had an unkind word, and when people speak of you, they always say you were one of the best people they have known.

We know you won’t be able to write back to us from where you are, but we will listen for your voice in the breezes.   And maybe, just maybe, you will show us a sign of your presence as your spirit continues to walk through the fields and forests here on your mountain.

Love, from all of us. 

A graveside service, for our parents, Dave and Ellen, will be held on July 12^th, 2025 at 2pm at the Rolling Dam United Cemetery, 374 Rolling Dam Road, Rolling Dam, N.B.

Donations in David’s memory can be made to a charity of one’s choice.  Condolences can be sent to the family online at mehanfuneralhome.ca