“My Dad”, a Tribute by Guiliana Sinclair

My Dad

     As children we aren’t supposed to lose our fathers so early in life. He’s supposed to be there forever, to teach us how to drive standard, see us graduate, walk us down the aisle, and watch our children grow up. Father’s are invincible, a security blanket, voice of reason, and a balance of mother’s hormones. So what do we do when this prefect life does not go according to plan? We freeze. We question our faith. We lose sight of ourselves. Memories of my dad are happy, so happy in fact that they make me sad. When I think about it, I have so many memories, and even the little things that when I think back, have affected me so greatly.

     My dad was diagnosed with colon cancer when I was 14 and Patrick was just 11. We had been living a perfect life. Our dad taught us to ski as soon as we could walk. He pulled us around in red plastic skis in the backyard with his ski poles. He’s ski poles became so bent from pulling us around on the ski hill and he always hesitated buying a new pair because he knew they would be bent in a matter of days. I remember throwing a temper tantrum when he told me, at the age of eight, that I was too big to be pulled around anymore.  He purposely enrolled me into a ski program a year ahead. We went on the chairlifts, but because I was too small he’d follow my ski class around and lift me onto the chair every single time. Skiing was our thing. Every year, a ski vacation was not negotiable. While my friends were all flying to a tropical destination every March break, my dad was carrying 4 ski bags and numerous boot bags through the airport. We complained… a lot. But at the end of the day, we loved the sport. There is no other feeling standing at the bottom of a hill full of moguls, drenched in sweat and not being able to feel your legs. We would have never done it if our dad hadn’t told us we were good enough. We loved spending time with our dad, watching him ski with his trademark “hop jump turn”, and then waiting for him at the bottom of the hill. He always ended up in the glades. Always. We’d look for his yellow coat, and could never find it, so we’d question if we really did go down the correct run, or if we were too slow and he was already up on the chairlift. But ten minutes later he’d appear out of the trees and beat us on the chairlift. What’s funny is that he is terrified of heights. Yet he went on chairlifts hundreds of feet off the ground, and up mountains that were the highest peaks for kilometres. He tackled his fears, literally head on. Nothing was going to stop him especially when it came to skiing. He would ski for hours, be the first out on the hill and the last to leave it. I`ve never met someone who legitimately loved the sport more than my dad.

     Another huge quality of my father was his lack of materialism. To him the difference between a BMW and a Volkswagen was the name and the inflated price. If the car worked it was driven, and only after a good 10 year life was it `recycled`. Dad drove cars second hand. After my mom had driven them. I remember when he was driving this old Ford Escort. I had just started school at De La Salle, and my dad would pick me up from school some days. At this point in time the car was over 7 years old, and for some reason the back doors wouldn’t open. So I had two options:  I could either go in through the window, or climb in to the back through the front seat. This was pretty embarrassing, especially since the other parents had cars with working doors, and because I was wearing a kilt. But to my dad it was just a car, nothing too important, it worked and served a purpose. He never cared what other people thought. For Christmas and birthdays dad would rarely get you something on your list. You’d be lucky if you did. He could never understand the need for a 500 dollar purse, “what makes it so much better?”, he’d always say.  Dad was always into the gifts that he would call “kinda neat`. This Christmas we got a ride in a helicopter for one of our gifts. It was amazing, but again, not even on our list. We went up right before school started this year, and I’m really happy we did. Experiences and memories were worth so much, more to him than material gifts. Last summer he spent hours watching seasons of Sex and the City with me. It was kinda awkward, but he did seem to saunter away or call someone during one of the “disturbing parts”.  He`d drive me and pick me up from the mall just to spend time with me.  He’d take us out for dinner and not eat the food but still pay for our meals. We had some of our best family conversations out for dinners. Patrick could always make my dad laugh on any day. It’s the memories gained from these experiences that count the most.

    This past summer I was fortunate enough to work at Wescam in Burlington, where my dad worked. For the majority of the summer my dad would drive me to and from work every day so we had an opportunity to talk alot. And believe it or not, most of our conversations were about work. When I was little, I really did think my dad was a workaholic. And maybe he was, but talking to him about work didn’t seem like he thought he job was work. To him, it was learning about people, how people interacted, solving problems, listening, and observing. Work was a passion.  This summer I worked in procurement with a group of individuals who were very vocal with their use of language. I once brought this issue up with my dad and he chuckled a bit but then said `but they are trying to change`, and that was it. He never judged, he was the least judgmental person I knew. He hated yelling and arguing, he never swore and he worked to calmly resolve problems. He taught me not to be quick to blame others, and that listening was the most important part of business. He looked up to his boss, who he said was the best listener he ever knew. Being his daughter, in the past I would have ignored some of his advice from our discussions. But working at Wescam, and seeing these theories in action, really pushed me to live them. I really think that my dad wanted the world to calm down a little, stop honking and swearing in traffic, stop yelling for no reason, start listening and responding more, and start moving away from their comfort zone. Life’s too short to live by a routine, and complain more than praise.  My dad wanted us to be thankful, and work with what we have, and try our best, maybe not be best, but at least work to our potential. I didn’t do too well at my ski races or my gymnastics competitions, but I felt a ton better when my dad told me that he was proud of me, regards of how well I placed, because he said that he could have never done what I did.  He’d be the first person I’d call when I got a test or assignment back, because I knew he’d be genuinely happy and proud of me, and wouldn’t half listen to what I had to say.

   The last thing I want to say is that while many of you might have been exposed to the engineer or quiet and serious side of my dad, there was really another side of him. He coached multiple soccer teams year after year, he made a backyard rink for Patrick and his friends, he read us the Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings books, he made up songs with our names in them. He used to sing that “fee, fi, foo, fum`song as he was walking up the stairs to tuck us into bed. I remember screaming because I i really thought he’d eat me.  He’d call us master and mistress and sometimes refer to himself as the downstairs maid. He’d push us around on the merry go round in Southampton so fast i couldn’t walk afterwards, he went on adventures and hikes with us down the ravine,  he’d take shortcuts through the back alleys and side streets to save 30 seconds when driving somewhere, he’d wrap Patrick into a cocoon before he went to bed for a good few months straight, he’d play tennis with us when no one else would, he’d teach us calculus and physics even when we’d yell and scream and get mad at him, he’d make three different dinners a night because we were such picky eaters, and he’d always remember our favourite kind of yogurt, or chips and get them every single time he went to the store, until we were so sick of eating them. He was always going somewhere, talking to someone, working or running. But he always had time for us.

   When you’re growing up you kind of see your parents as your friends see their parents; guardians, people who finance their lives, give you advice that you don’t take seriously, and make crazy rules that you’re determined to break. I’ve always been a closed person, stubborn, and not someone who would tell their parents every detail of their lives. To me, my mom and dad were these such people, their advice could never be trusted without discussion with my friends, and persuasion from the popular teenage decision. But then somewhere along the line, probably as I finished up my first year of university, my opinions on these matters began to change. It was my dad I turned to. He was the most efficient and thoughtful person I’ve met. He always thought about others problems before his own. His decisions were fair, never one sided, and always listened and acted on my concerns or problems, never ignoring them. After awhile, I looked to my dad as not just the traditional “guardian” figure, but as a role model. Before I’d make a major decision or when I was put in a situation with my friends, I’d always think “What would dad do? What would dad say?” It only took my 18 years to figure this out.

My dad had cancer for just around 6 years. He had some great results and some not great results. He was always honest with us, regardless of the news. One day this past summer, when we were driving home from work and stuck in traffic again he started talking about life after death. My dad had been meditating and taking courses on healing and spirituality for awhile and I had really noticed his change in attitude. I’m not really comfortable with talking about life after death because it honestly really scares me. So I started crying, and of course since we’re talking in the car i can’t really escape. But he told me that it was okay to cry; crying just shows you care, not that you’re weak. He said that he’d believed that you enter the divine, where you have no worries or pain. But I said that I’d miss him, there really is no one else I have ever met like him. But he said `Giuls, it’s just my body that’s leaving, my spirit is still here, it will always be with you`. We really do question faith when things like this happen, to such an amazing person. We get mad, and frustrated, and we think why it wasn’t someone else. But the more I think of it, the more I realize that I’m only 20, Patrick’s only 17 and all of you are still pretty young. My dad has such an impact on so many people; he lived an extraordinary and motivating life. We all now have time to adapt some of the qualities that he showed and lived our lives with the courage, compassion and spirit that he had. He knew that this disease was powerful, but not powerful in a destructive way. It is powerful in an inspirational way. Cancer teaches you that the world does not revolve around just you. The world is much bigger picture.  Because of him, I really do try not to judge people, give them the benefit of the doubt and take the high road. What you own does not and will never define you.  You`re attitude and how you treat others is what matters. So although I’m sad, and one of the most important people in my life is gone, I`d going to keep going. But I’m going to keep living how he’d want me to keep living.  We’re going to be okay, but my dad, he’s going to be much better.

A Tribute to My Brother, by Doug Sinclair

First of all, let me extend a warm and sincere thank you to all of you who are here today to celebrate Lawrence’s life.   On behalf of the Sinclair family, I would like to especially thank the Chiarella family for their tremendous warmth and energy during the difficult days of these last few weeks.

You have heard already about Lawrence’s many qualities, but I am here today to take you all the way back to his days as a little boy to let you know that these qualities of determination and fearlessness were present even then.

Parents always are excited when their children begin to speak, and usually the first words are Mama or Dada.  Lawrence, of course was different.   Child rearing in the 1950’s was very different that it is today.   Many of the “routine practices” would not be acceptable now – but I am sure that many of the older parents here could relate to this.

Because Lawrence was such a busy, curious young boy, my mother used to “restrain” him in the backyard with a “harness” so that he would not wander at will, so she would be able to keep an eye on the other brothers.   So Lawrence’s first words were not “Mama” or “Dada”, but were “ no wope [rope] Mummy, no wope [rope]   Once the restraints were released, Lawrence was off on his life adventure.

You have heard about Lawrence’s skills as an engineer- even as a young boy, he was curious and always conducting “experiments”.   I remember the time we encouraged him to stick his finger in the spokes of a spinning bicycle wheel – which of course he did without hesitation.   That prompted a trip to the Joesph Brant Emergency Dept.   We found out later that the doctor who put in the sutures, was actually working without a medical license!

When I was in university, we needed some help with set design for a play.  Lawrence was there to assist .  He found a number of old pipes that we had at home, and before I knew it, he had welded together a “structure” that was the perfect backdrop for the play.  And of course, it was done for a low cost.

My sister Lianne remembers that when she was a first year engineering student at McMaster, Lawrence used to drive her to the library faithfully.  He wanted  to make sure that she was studying hard in the right environment.  Guilianna and Patrick – does this sound familiar?

My brother Brad remembers an incident at Southampton in the famous blue mustang.   They had had a few “beverages” and Lawrence was at the wheel when the OPP pulled them over.   The policeman told Brad to drive, since he was the most sober [ times have certainly changed!] so he got in the driver’s seat.  There was only one problem – he had never driven a standard shift before.  So they drove off, with Lawrence operating the stick shift and telling Brad when to push in the clutch!

My children have many fond memories of Lawrence, usually related to trips we took to Ontario when the girls were young and our two family ski trips to Mont Tremblant.  Caitlin remembers being very nervous when she visited, because Uncle Lawrence would tickle her, no matter how loudly she protested.   We also remember a time in Southampton, when as we looked out the front window, Lawrence rushed by, holding Cait by the ankles- and she had a look of shear terror on her face!

My other daughter Anna was able to ski, but only in a straight line.  Uncle Lawrence taught her to turn, by skiing backwards down the hill, and within a day, she had mastered the technique.   Good thing, since whenever I ski backwards, it usually means that I am just about to fall!

James remembers taking a wrong turn at Tremblant and heading down a black diamond run at age 5.    Lawrence chased him down the hill to make sure he was OK.   Another skier asked if there was a problem.  Lawrence said that everything was OK, except for the terrified father at the top of the run.

As you have heard, Lawrence never wanted to bother anyone with his health issues.   Again at Tremblant, we remember a “pine nut incident” that occurred of course at the summit restaurant.   Lawrence told us that he would ski down to the bottom of the hill and take care of it.   We were concerned and offered to go with him – but he said it would be faster and more efficient if he went alone. 

You have also heard, how Lawrence was always looking for new adventures and showing others how to enjoy themselves.   At the end of a long day skiing, Lawrence said to me – lets have some fun, and he took me [ a blue run skier] down a narrow, rock filled black diamond run.  At the bottom, he looked back, with that famous half grin and said – wasn’t that fun?  I was not sure, but glad that I did it.

This week, one of my colleagues, a cancer survivor herself gave me a heartfelt sympathy card, which I will read, because it captures my relationship with my “little brother”

“Brothers have special relationships- they help each other through tough situations.  Lawrence was fortunate to have your support through the past few years in particular.  You will, no doubt draw on his example of courage and determination as you face tough challenges in the future.  His gift to you.”

Actually- his gift to all of us.

Anything but Normal, Tribute by Lawrence Pentland

Lawrence Sinclair: Anything But Normal

Although it was in the last century, it hardly seems like yesterday that Lawrence graduated from Aldershot High School in Burlington along with about 170 of our classmates.  

While all of us graduated that day with a body temperature of 98.6 degrees Farhenheit, Lawrence also graduated with an academic average of 98.6 percent.  Even by today’s standards of grade inflation, that is quite a remarkable achievement.  It is for this reason that I have entitled my comments today: “Lawrence Sinclair: Anything But Normal”.

My earliest recollections of Lawrence were of the two of us trying out for the Grade 9 Midget basketball team.   The tryouts were at 630 AM each morning.  We had a crazy coach who somehow felt that conditioning was important to the game of basketball and, so, had us doing suicide drills back and forth up and down the lines at that unpleasant hour.   I remember us joking about who would be the first to chuck up their morning bowl of Cheerios. 

Lawrence wasn’t the tallest on the team.  Nor was he the fastest.  He didn’t even have a great shot.  But he was tenacious and of all the drills we did in practice, you didn’t want to go up against him in the one-on-one drills.  He simply kept at you, back and forth, never giving an inch and preventing you from taking a decent shot. 

Thus began a long and recurring pattern of seeing Lawrence as the hardest working guy whether it was on the athletic field, in the classroom, in the workplace or ultimately in his fight against cancer.  Lawrence was anything but normal.

In later years in high school, the pursuit of athletics for Lawrence was slowly replaced with the pursuit of academic excellence.  I didn’t have the natural intellect that Lawrence had.  Nor did I have the inclination to work so hard.  But I figured out that being his partner, particularly in the sciences, was a pretty smart thing to do. 

So, on the first day of each of those classes he was my first pick to be my Lab Partner.  Now, in hindsight, it’s not completely clear to me at all that I was his “first pick”.  But, being the easy-going guy that he was, he never said otherwise.  So, we became Lab Partners in biology, chemistry and physics.  

I think I knew at that stage in my life that I wasn’t going to be a doctor, or an engineer, or a scientist when I grew up.  So, my primary objective in each of these classes was to do whatever was possible to disrupt the lab experiment we were expected to do.   This meant that Lawrence had to put up with a constant stream of hi-jinks from me, whether it was tying a knot in the gas line so the Bunson burner didn’t work, or secretly putting a pin prick in the balloon we were meant to blow up, or depositing a foreign substance in the piglet we were dissecting (it took him a long time to figure that one out) it was all meant to make him laugh.  Which it did.  

And I knew it didn’t matter much whether we completed the experiments since I knew he’d read ahead and already knew what the experiment was supposed to demonstrate.  In fact, I often thought he knew more about each of those subjects than our teachers did.  I knew this, in part, because I knew he often borrowed text books from his older brother Doug, who was in university at the time, in order to “brush up” on a few of the finer points in the subject.  That was Lawrence.  Always working hard to learn just a little bit more about a topic.

One year Lawrence competed in the Halton County Science Fair.  I remember him being so very proud of his project and of him inviting me to see his display boards.   I probably didn’t fully appreciate the significance of the work he had done.  There is a picture of him in our Yearbook hunched over some crates and boxes and in the background you can see the title of his experiment: “An Environmental Control Chamber for Plant Growth” whatever the heck that was.   There were very few kids in all of Burlington who could dream up a topic like that, let alone spend the countless hours, on top of normal class work, to do a great job.  That’s just the way he was, anything but normal.

Lest you have the impression that Lawrence was all work and no play, I can attest to the fact that he was willing to “play” just like the rest of us.  We had many dances and parties over the years and it didn’t take much to get him away from his books to go out and have some fun.  The legal drinking age at the time was 18 and, with the existence of grade 13, this meant that there was lots of opportunity in high school to do so.  More than a few times we hung out at a local joint called “Sir Pizza” and left several hours later without having ordered a single slice.  We’d talk and laugh about our teachers, our sports teams, the girls in our class and a hundred other topics.   

It’s well known that the teen years are filled with anxious concerns that years later seem trivial,  But, at the time, they seem all-important.  Having a buddy to talk things over with and, equally important, to know they’d keep your deepest, most embarrassing moments to themselves was an invaluable attribute in a friend.  That’s just the way he was.  And if you needed to talk late at night, or when he was in the middle of something important, he wouldn’t hesitate to drop everything and make himself available.

Most other guys fit into one of 3 categories:

- the ones who couldn’t wait to tell everyone about some secret they’d heard,

- the ones who would tell one or two other guys who then told everyone else your secret, or,

- finally the ones whom you simply had to razz a bit until they spilled their guts. 

Not Lawrence.   I wasn’t the only one who came to know that telling him something was like locking it up in Fort Knox.   Lawrence was anything but normal. 

I kept in touch with Lawrence quite regularly over the years after high school, sometimes to ski, sometimes to meet for a beer, sometimes to just talk on the phone.  Like most longstanding friendships, it only took a few minutes together before we got laughing about the old times, which caused the time since we’d seen each other last  to melt away.  Almost always our conversation would drift to talking about the old times of Aldershot High School.  I have a quirky memory for trivial things and could draw upon my memory banks to regale him in laughter about some incident from those happy days.  He loved it.  But we also almost always discussed the serious matters of the current day.  He always listened well and always had a word of wisdom for me regardless of the topic.  

Lawrence has left his 169 Aldershot High School classmates behind and has gone onto what can only be a better place now for him.  Nobody knows about what happens after death but something tells me that, with him there, it will be anything but normal.

It was a privilege to have known Lawrence, to have been inspired by his sense of hard work and to have shared in many moments of youthful happiness. 

As I think back on all of those years I am reminded of something someone once said:

“…that age appears to be the best in four things —- old wood best to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust, and old authors to read”

I will miss Lawrence.  He was a great friend.

Free at Last, Tribute by John Leonard

A Life to Celebrate, Tribute by John Leonard        

Free at last, free at last, Thank God Almighty Lawrence is free at last.        This quote by Martin Luther King is how I felt on  Wednesday November 4^th at 3.15 PM when Mary Lou called to tell me about Lawrence’s passing.   He completed his journey with dignity, grace and love BUT never gave up-he fought to the very end with every last ounce of strength against his illness..  He never complained about the 70-80 Chemo therapies or the many surgery’s -He accepted them as necessary to get as much out of life as was possible-and he did.

Lawrence was my best friend.  He was with me in the good times and the bad times however we had many many good times and not many bad times.  We enjoyed each others company immensely whether it be a ski trip, a new years eve party, parties at each others home or cottage-we had a good time.  He and I liked nothing better than to sit in the famous blue chairs at my cottage and discuss politics from international, national, provincial and especially local – we had the answers to everything.

We could always rely on one another.  I know that if this service was for me, Lawrence would be doing the same thing as I am doing now.  We agreed that the last one to leave had to shut off the lights.

We met at Port Elgin in 1977 at the Famous Eddy Hotel next to the Harbour in Port Elgin.  I had heard about Lawrence earlier from my employer at my summer job.  She told me not to spoil her Lawrence.  Well, that didn’t work.  Lawrence was best man at my Wedding, I was best man at his.  Our families went back and forth and had and continue to have a very close relationship.  We both really liked each others company and yet we should have been so opposite.  Like Laurel and Hardy.  Lawrence was the Scholar- in the top 3 at McMaster in Engineering and then went out west to complete a Masters Degree.  As for me I went to York- and I did find a job!  We worked as a team on various things, I was the ideas man and he would tell me if it should work.  I was planning to buy a sailboat but the keel was different.  I had to have Lawrence come down and give me his opinion on this boat and he was right, the keel design wasn’t a great idea and I sold the boat at the end of that  year.  Recently,  Lise and I had pipes burst in our  house on Christmas Eve or so we thought.  I called  Lawrence and he came right over and we solved the problem it wasn’t a burst pipe. This stopped the anxious plumber from smashing our walls that night.     

Not only did Lawrence love to ski, to run and in the past,  gravel runs in Bruce County-he also loved to watch Western movies.  I read a quote by John Wayne which I thought appropriate to Larry  which John Wayne said “courage is being scared to death-but saddling up anyways”.  In the face of all this cancer crap Lawrence saddled up and kept riding..   Lawrence had a real sense of right and wrong and always intended to do the right thing-except for the tray of shooters incident at the Walker house.

I could list the many things he achevied by hard work such as top of the class at High School, full scholarships to University,  at his first job a Lumonics he found lines of the spectrum that no one had found before and his name published on numerous academic papers while there.  He achieved great success at work and he sure did work, staying last night after night, week after week-he really enjoyed what he did.  He took his family skiing and Lise and I were a part of this many times.  Whereas I liked to ski  for a nice part of the day, Lawrence liked to start at the opening and stay to the close, there was no half way for Lawrence.  I also found that out at the Walker house in Southampton as well! He played tennis, swam, ran, windsurfed, hiked, rode his bike, took his kids to ski lessons and races, enjoyed the odd beer or two in the past and  loved sitting at our friend Rob Pollock’s patio in the summer with all the gang, laughing and talking.  Our friendship was cemented here at the beach and we became the best of friends through all these activities. 

Around 1980 Lawrence introduced me to Mary-lou for the first time.  During the rest of his life I was with them for the first apartment at Young and Finch, the first house on Laird Drive, the house on Rykert.  The birth of Guiliana, the birth of Patrick.  Mary lou was very lucky to have met Lawrence and he was of her.   Lawrence and Mary Lou were there  for the same things for Lise and I- the apartment, the house and the birth of our children. .  They were with me for the ski day that I left early for a Date-if Lawrence hadn’t encouraged me to go and leave the ski hill I would have never met Lise.  

During all this cancer crap,  Mary lou  and Lawrence both lived as close to normal lives as they could-Lawrence’s big wish was not for a once in a lifetime trip but to live normal-to do homework with Patrick, ski with Guils and to go to work. He was a great family man to all his families, his own, the Sinclair family,  his in-laws and to all his friends and their familes from the cottage. I know that Lise and I will do whatever I can for my friends family as that is what he would do for me.

I have found this hard to do a eulogy to my best friend.    He and I were supposed to grow old together .  I have been so lucky to have known him for 32 years and it was his time to go however unfair it may to be myself and all of us. 

Goodbye Lawrence and I will remember to shut off the lights when I leave .

Mary Lou’s Tribute: “This will be Difficult”

This will be difficult

It’s not because I am not a fan of public speaking…I do this all the time.  But this was one I was hoping — beyond hopes — that I would not have to give.  But just as Lawrence was a model of bravery in everything he did, I hope to be one today… because these words just have to be said. 

This might get ugly…I may need tissues…but I will finish. 

“Thank you” to friends

You are going to hear from a number of speakers who will remember Lawrence through their friendships, work experiences, family.  I want to thank all of you in advance for accepting to speak today because it is not easy.

I also want to thank all of you for coming today…some of you from long distances away…like Halifax, Calgary and North Tonawanda NY!.  And I have so many friends in the US and elsewhere with me in their thoughts today.  There is so much love and respect for Lawrence in this room.  Over the past week, I can honestly say I have shed a lot of tears over some of these stories from so many people at the visitation, the funeral, the interment. So I am very hopeful that today, we get to share a few laughs as well. 

How Lawrence and I met  

So, I’m going to tell you a bit about Lawrence the husband. But before I do that….Lawrence…the boyfriend….

Giuliana and Patrick are going to cringe I know, but that’s just too bad. 

I met Lawrence my first year of university (McMaster) in a library back in 1978….thirty- one years ago.  None of you should be surprised at the library part.  I was sitting on one side on the table in the science library; Lawrence on another and we were introduced by a mutual friend.  I was talking to our friend most of the time when I would see Lawrence look up from time to time from whatever physics textbook he was reading.   

Lawrence took forever to make the first move.  He would grunt “hi” walking past my carrel and then saunter away.  It wasn’t until much later that he left the following message for me in my library carrel on a little piece of paper: 

“Would you like a free steak dinner on Sunday nite?” 

So, let’s dissect this pick up line again 

 1. First of all…he picked Sunday…a day he knew his parents to be away.  Bob and Joan…now you know what happened to those extra steaks in your freezer in December 1979…see…the steak was not only free to me, it was free to Lawrence too.

 2. And what about that “free” part.  Lawrence removed any doubt…I did not have to lay down any hard cash on his parents kitchen table for this meal.  As a student, that was a relief! 

 3. And he actually identified what we were going to have for dinner…steak.  Lawrence was a true carnivore.  I think he thought I would be impressed that he wasn’t making me grilled cheese or something like that.  To a university student…steak was nirvana.  It was a sure ticket to “YES – I’ll come for dinner!”

So, if I had been a bit unsure about Lawrence himself, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.  Lawrence was a great salesperson. 

On top of that, the fact that he cooked me a great dinner with all the trimmings was totally impressive.

Right afterwards, we took off in his baby blue mustang and hit the books again at the library. Never missing a beat. 

But that was classic Lawrence.  Completely capable…independent, with a work ethic un-matched by anyone I had ever met….and I guess, he knew what he wanted. 

We dated for quite awhile and Lawrence introduced me to his world. 

Like the town he loved so much – Southampton on Lake Huron – and all his wonderful friends there and family. 

Like skiing, which scared me silly but Lawrence would never ever let me off the hook. 

And hiking and even sailing when I couldn’t swim. 

And I introduced him to my world – my big Italian family who embraced Lawrence from the start.

He was an anomaly to them….He was quiet! 

He was always the first one to get up from the dinner table to do the dishes. And Lawrence got used to the volume level, the tendency to hug all the time and the nieces and nephews crawling all over him.  He loved them all. 

Lawrence as Husband, Father and Professional    

We married in 1985 and had two great kids…Giuliana and Patrick. 

As a husband, Lawrence was the epitome of a renaissance man.  We all know how scholarly he was, but he did more than his fair share of responsibilities around the house and with the kids. 

A totally “hands-on” and committed dad, driving from Hamilton/Burlington to all their sports (the soccer, the gymnastics, the tennis, the hockey, and – oh-my-gosh — all the skiing!). 

Even during his illness, he continued to coach Giuliana’s soccer team and compete with Patrick in tennis tournaments in Southampton.

He even ran road races like the 5 Peaks Trail Running Series in Ontario while on chemo, and did extremely well! 

But he never let on about how he was feeling – he did not seek sympathy.   

And from the sidelines, Lawrence was so encouraging of the kids but never a “dadzilla”. 

While I would always ask how many medals Giuliana won in gymnastics after returning…it was NEVER Lawrence’s emphasis.  It was always about the experience, not the outcome. 

Lawrence prided himself on living up to his responsibilities at home, even during his illness.  Other than when he was in hospital, he did the laundry and shopping during his treatments – right up to a few weeks before his death.  

But in taking on all these responsibilities, he fostered my independence and gave me the freedom to pursue what I wanted in my career, encouraging me to take on more responsibilities and go after promotions, and my own social interests.

He was my biggest cheerleader.   

He did all of this while giving no less than 100% to his job that he loved and was his “sanctuary” away from cancer, until he officially resigned this summer.  

He loved L3 Wescam….He loved everyone there. 

He was so proud to be a supervisor, loved solving problems even though he seemed permanently attached to his cellphone sometimes, doing what he loved and being a mentor to many.  I think the day he resigned and cleaned off his desk was one of the saddest days of his life.

I mentioned that Lawrence shared the workload at home, but that is not to say that he did not also excel at the traditional husband tasks. 

He thought he inherited his grandfather’s plumber gene and renovated a kitchen and bathroom in our first house (even while working in Scotland for a good part of the time) and a bathroom in this house. 

 Lawrence’s Bravery

But one of the most memorable and tell-tale attributes of Lawrence was his lack of fear of hard work.  When our sewer pipe was strangled by tree roots and broke at our older home, just down the street actually, Lawrence took to digging a 6 foot trench by hand on his own in our clay soil to repair it.  I’d go outside, and I couldn’t see his balding little head, and these piles of dirt tossed up from time to time along the side.  Some neighbours even came by to see it for themselves. 

He was not afraid to get his hands dirty…even during his illness.  He did not shy away from the most difficult treatments.   Over the past 6 years, Lawrence had 70 – 80 rounds of chemo, 5 operations, dozens of biological drug treatments, three radiation surgeries.  The word “fear” was not in his vocabulary. 

Just like on the ski slopes, on boardsailing on the waves of Lake Huron, Lawrence went for it.  When they had to determine what the dose was for his treatments, Lawrence always asked for the maximum. Even when he knew of the side effects some of which were horrid, like those hiccups which did not allow him any rest.  He did everything in his power to live as long as he could and to live as normally as possible. 

I was always very annoyed with folks with gave me that “look” when hearing of Lawrence’s illness; little did they know what a fighter we had in our midst.  Lawrence defied the odds. 

I want an oncologist to say to a patient one day, with a similar diagnosis – “The prognosis is such-and-such….but…you never know, we had this one guy,  Lawrence Sinclair, who defied the odds and lived 4 x longer than we expected.  If he can do it…you could too.”  That’s what Lawrence would have wanted.

If I haven’t already said it in my examples…Lawrence was a great husband and father. 

I loved him and will really miss him. 

Even putting today’s and this afternoon’s agenda together…I miss his advice.  I miss his decisiveness. 

I’m emotional – he’s rationale. 

I’m impulsive – he’s measured. 

I’m Italian – he’s not. 

We made a very good team. 

I will miss finishing to raise our fine children without him.  I know a lot of the hard part is done, but some of the most complicated and critical work is still to come.  I will definitely be saying to myself…what would our Lawrence do?

Rest assured everyone…we will be fine…but we will not be the same. 

In the end, Lawrence did not fear death.  He connected with his spiritual side and was at peace.  He used mediation to help remove some stress in his life, and this really helped him and all of us prioritize.  The only thing he feared was not seeing his children at their important milestones. Actually, it was more sadness than fear, but disappointment just the same.

Scholarship Fund   

On the Monday nite before Lawrence died, we were returning from the hospital with Giuliana, and we decided that we wanted to do something special for Lawrence…to keep his memory alive….something befitting the type of person Lawrence was. 

We came up with the idea of the Scholarship fund.  Thanks to Bruce Latimer of Wescam for putting the logistics together.  

The idea is that based upon criteria indicative of what Lawrence personified — like a strong work ethic — students would be selected to receive a scholarship in the communities that were important to Lawrence – Toronto, Southampton and Burlington. 

This is not about being a top student necessarily, but in demonstrating those qualities that personified Lawrence.

We are so excited about this…I really hope each and every one of you will give this charity serious consideration…now and perhaps as Christmas gifts this year.  If the website is confusing, please call the number and they will walk you through the process.  Everything you need to know about it is on the program you were handed out today.   

Final Thoughts

I want to leave you with one last thought. 

We learned so much from Lawrence during his battle – about bravery, heroism and working for what was important. 

In 51 short years, Lawrence taught a century worth of lessons for me and his children, and for everyone he came in contact with. 

My favorite quote that is in your program and epitomizes Lawrence is:

The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy. Martin Luther King Jr., Strength to Love, 1963

 

To me, Giuliana and Patrick, Lawrence stood front and centre, and 100 feet tall.

 

What a Guy!

Tribute from Rosetta Del Monte, Sister of Mary Lou.

WHAT AN AMAZING GUY!!!

I would like to say a few words on behalf of the Chiarella family.  I am MaryLou’s older sister –there are 4 girls–and Lawrence’s sister-in-law.  I met Lawrence in 1983 when Marylou introduced him to our family.  Several years earlier I had married one Luciano Del Monte—and so when I met Lawrence Sinclair for the first time I thought – wow—he’s really Canadian. 

On MaryLou’s wedding day, when I saw MaryLou come out our family home she was beautiful—she looked like a princess – her beauty was stunning.  I thought – Lawrence – Sinclair.  What a guy.  He is getting the prettiest of the sisters. 

The thing that I remember most about their wedding day was their reception.  Theirs was the first ever wedding reception ever held at Club Italia in Niagara falls—a cultural center that my father had built a few years earlier.  That night Lawrence and I danced to the song –Footloose.  I think having gotten a few beers in him helped lighten him up.  And of course having John Leonard as his best man really helped him lighten up.

Lawrence introduced us to Southampton and we have gone on vacation there since our boys were small and to this day as far and my husband and I are concerned 2 weeks in Southampton is the best re-charge in the world.  As Adrian mentioned, Lawrence spent a lot of time playing with our boys when they were young.  After a round of chasing them in the doons, he’d head out on his sailboard.  We were very impressed.  I always thought that was very ironic that my sister married a sailboarder since MaryLou does not like the water much.

Over the years, I always wondered how Lawrence felt when he was with our Big Fat Italian family.  We were loud and liked to eat and there were always a lot of us.  Oftentimes I would see Lawrence leaning against the wall with his hands behind his back and wonder what he was thinking.  We’d ask him, “Lawrence, come and have a piece of homemade tiramisu.”  He’d shake his head and say, “I’m fine.”  Lawrence kind of reminded me of Ian Miller, the non-Greek boyfriend, in the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding.  He loved my mom’s lasagne and was always the first to get up and start washing the dishes after are family gatherings.  A man of few words but he had a servant’s heart.  

During the last 6 years during Lawrence’s long ordeal with cancer, I’d call Marylou and ask her, “what’s Lawrence doing?”  and she’d say, “Oh he just ran a 5k road race this morning.”  OR  “Oh, he’s skiing with Guiliana or skiing with Patrick.”  I would shake my head and say to myself, “What a guy!” 

The last image I have of Lawrence well is this summer in Southampton.  My husband and I went to visit him on August 19.  He was making supper for Patrick and confided in us that he was getting weary of it all.   We had our best talk ever.  I left feeling though more burdened than ever.  The next day as we were leaving I was driving down Huron Street and I oould barely believe my eyes.  There was Lawrence walking briskly, with his baseball cap, his shorts and t-shirt.  I said to myself, “What a guy”

People live a lot longer than Lawrence.  Some live to be 70, 80 90, but don’t leave the legacy that our brother-in-law has left us.   . 

Thank you Lawrence.  WE WILL NEVER FORGET YOU.  You have marked our lives. 

What a guy.

 

The Most Courageous Man I Knew

Hi,

I’m Adrian, one of Uncle Lawrence’s nephews. My wife and I went to visit Uncle Lawrence in the hospital on the Thursday night before he passed away. When we went, we had brought a letter telling him about what we remembered most about him. I am going to read that letter now.

 October 29, 2009

Dear Uncle Lawrence,

I’m not terrific at articulating my words, so I thought writing them down would be a little easier. There is something I need you to know.

You are one of the most courageous men that I know. Throughout your sickness, you have never given up. You have diligently confronted each obstacle that has been pushed your way, and I get the sense, for as long as you have breath, you’ll continue to fight. This is a gift you have passed on to my wife and I, and we thank you so sincerely for it.

I want you to know that you have made my life better in ways that you might not even realize. Whenever I think back on my younger years I remember things like you chasing us through the doons in South Hampton, or you tickling my brothers and I until the laughing actually hurt.  And I remember running through a poison ivy filled field with you. Actually, I didn’t run. You carried me (and each of my brothers) individually. I’m pretty sure you got poison ivy from that, and we didn’t. As I reflect on these times, I realize that the way you treated us is the way I can only hope I will treat my own children one day. And I thank you for it, as well.

And as I sit here writing, and you continue to fight, I realize that the way you have lived your life is the way I hope I can live mine: courageous, loyal to your family, and with a passion for life.

That, I think, is what impresses me so much: that no matter what you have gone through, you have continued to live your life. Life has been so unfair to you, and still you have pressed on. I can’t even articulate how much I am impacted by this.

I want you to know that whenever I think of courage, I think of you. You are so brave. I have always loved the quotation from To Kill a Mockingbird that says, “Courage is knowing you’re licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do.” However, it is only in the past couple years—as you have battled your sickness—have these words truly meant something to me. Perhaps I sound a little cliché, but I truly mean it. You embody courage to me. I’ll never forget that.

Know that we are thinking and praying for you a lot these days. We know you will keep fighting because we know that it would be impossible for you to do anything less.

 We love you very much, Uncle Lawrence.

Adrian and Amy

 —

Of course, Uncle Lawrence passed on a week later.  But Uncle Lawrence left a legacy for all of us. That’s a big word: legacy. It’s what people remember most about you.  I hope I leave one, but not everyone does. . And Uncle Lawrence’s legacy to my wife and I is that no matter what hits you with, you keep going. That’s courage. And because of that, we’ll never, ever forget Uncle Lawrence.

I’m a better person personally and professionally because of him

Eulogy from Steve.Tritchew, friend and co-worker.

I first met Lawrence at McMaster University in 1978, where we were part of a small group of 2^nd year students in the Engineering Physics stream.  We both became interested in optics and lasers, and ultimately a lot of other areas in engineering also.   He was smart and humble, and had a remarkable gift of energy and perseverance.  In university, most of us goofed off a fair bit.  Not active fun, just doing a lot of nothing.  Lawrence seemed to do very little of that.  For him it was active fun, studying or work, to an amazing degree.  At university he also honed his renowned capability to apparently sleep with his head upright and unsupported.  I say apparently because as many people at Wescam discovered, when he did this he was really multitasking:  somehow he could rest and listen at the same time, bursting back to full consciousness when he wanted to speak up.

 I joined Spar Aerospace in 1985 where Lawrence was already working. It seemed like it would be interesting work and a good friend was there.  The major project at the time was a state-of-the-art infrared sensor system.  People at Wescam have commented on Lawrence’s breadth of technical knowledge.  That span of knowledge was built up throughout his career because he was always striving to understand how to solve problems in whatever area they occurred.  During this big project at Spar, Lawrence’s area of responsibility had challenges that ranged from optics polishing to electronic circuit manufacturing through to vacuum sealing.  In each one he’d thoroughly research the underlying technologies to try to help the manufacturers through the problems.  I remember that on the vacuum sealing issue, he dug up a world renowned expert in the materials science of soldering.  That expert’s advice helped solve what would otherwise have been a complete show-stopper.  This example also illustrates a number of his traits:  he would tackle anything, was never too shy or too proud to get help when he thought he needed it, and he tried to get the best.

 I left Spar to join Wescam in early 1994 and I convinced Lawrence to join in the summer of 1994.  We both were excited by the work because the products involved optics and a variety of other technologies and because it was a dynamic company.  In the beginning he was the lead in the lens and camera area, with the major effort being a product that helped launch Wescam in the military market.  We really pushed the envelope, and actually a few times we were so far out we couldn’t even see the envelope.  His innovative ideas and hard work were an essential contribution to our success.

 Lawrence’s responsibilities increased and eventually he led our engineering department through our largest growth phase, a quadrupling in size from about 30 to 120 engineers.  The intelligence, fearlessness and perseverance that he had previously focused primarily in the technical disciplines were then applied to becoming an outstanding leader.  He demonstrated the soft skills that people often don’t associate with engineers.  He encouraged people to do their best, was calm and clear-headed in helping to solve issues, built teamwork within his department and throughout the company, strongly supported his staff, and bugged the heck out of them, his peers, his boss, and anyone else who would listen when he saw something that he thought needed changing. 

 Lawrence’s energy level amazed me and everyone who knew him, both before he had cancer, and even more so when he was fighting cancer.  He would often be seen going for an evening run after a full day’s work.  After the run, if deadlines required it, he would continue working afterward.  Many of us recall receiving e-mails that were sent at strange times of the night and just shake our heads wondering how he did it.  For me, it was just like back in university.  No idle mode:  just fun, family and work.

 In preparation for this speech, I solicited the thoughts of people at Wescam to try to better understand how he affected those that he worked with.  The memories were all fond and spoke to his passion for life, his dedication, and the inspiration that he was to them.  I’d like to give a few examples:

• “Best boss I ever had”
• “He would stay with us as long as it took to solve a problem”
• “Anything can be solved with a flowchart”
• “Best resource I had for places to ski”
• “He explained technical issues in a way that was understandable to someone who wasn’t an engineer”
•  “Visionary”
•  “A great role model”
• “A great mentor”
• “A great runner”
• “Easy to get along with”
• “If we committed to a task or project, he was relentless”
• “Lawrence memorized all of our cell phone numbers”
• “One of the main reasons I came to Wescam was that when Lawrence showed me the products during my interview, I had never met anyone who was so passionate and excited about what he was doing”

 We knew each other for 31 years.  When we spoke, we could complete each other’s sentences.  I’m deeply saddened that he’s gone.  Mary Lou, Giuliana, Patrick and the rest of Lawrence’s family, you have our heartfelt condolences.   I feel lucky to have known Lawrence and I’m a better person both personally and professionally because of him.  I am sure that each person who knew him also valued their relationship with him and we’ll all cherish our memories of Lawrence for the rest of our lives.

 

Always moving FORWARD

Hi,

Attached are some photos of Lawrence (and some friends), taken on the Princess Margaret Hospital walk on Oct 18 this year.

Sincerely,

Jonathan Sharp

 

Hard-working Engineer, and Absolutely Devoted Husband

I searched through my photo albums and found a great photo of Lawrence, so here’s my memory ….

I remember Lawrence studying at the McMaster Science library – every night, in the same spot. He studied hard, but didn’t mind if we asked for help on tough math or physics problems. He’d occasionally take a hot chocolate break with us (those were the days before we drank coffee), and if we were  really lucky, he would drive Mary Lou home from the library late at night
and I’d get a ride with them. He had a Mustang!

Mary Lou fell for him when he invited her to his parents’ house (while they were away) and cooked her a steak dinner.

He was a hard-working engineer, and absolutely devoted to Mary Lou. I know that he displayed the same work ethic throughout the rest of his life, and continued his devotion to Mary Lou, Giuliana and Patrick. We can all reflect on these great qualities, and keep Lawrence in our hearts by working
hard and loving you and our families.
 
With deepest sympathy,
 Peggy