Thank you and goodbye, Thomas Harding.

I still think of Thomas every time I smell pipe tobacco.

Thomas was my stepdad for 8 years. When I was 6, my mom moved us from Vancouver to Toronto to live with him. We moved a lot (by age 20, I’d had 15 homes). Thomas had 3 adult sons at the time so I was the youngest of 6, Brady Bunch style. His middle son Bruce taught us how to play music.

LEFT TO RIGHT: My older brother Neil, me, Thomas’ middle child Ginger John Lennon Bruce, and his eldest Eric.

For a time, we lived in the country. His knowledge of nature was astounding - he’d grown up in northern BC, reading field guides and spending his days in the wild. He encouraged me to read his favourite adventure novel from his childhood - “Swallows and Amazons”, but I never did.

Our country manse in Wilfred, ON (population: ~50). My mom was the United Church minister for three small towns (Wilfred, Pefferlaw & Udora). I went to school and played hockey in Cannington, ON (population: ~2000).

He was very articulate and well read and spent some years as a university professor. He was handsome, and he knew it.. my mom said he looked like Robert Redford.

I wasn’t ALWAYS this cool, you guys…

He had a 29 foot sailboat called La Sonrisa moored in Stanley Park and once we’d moved back to the west coast, we’d sail from Vancouver to Prince Rupert in the summertime to visit his aging parents. We’d stay in a little house on Digby island, just off the coast. No running water or electricity. Once, I stepped on a nail in the attic and there was some concern about tetanus.

View of the yard and campout tent tarp from the rustic house on Digby Island near Price Rupert, BC

At some point, we sent our beloved dog Hoover to finish his days with Thomas’ parents, Helen and Ken - our constant life shifts were too much for an old dog. After Hoover died, both Helen and Ken died within six months. He’d given them a reason to get out of bed.

And I miss the rewarding gaze
Of a friend from my younger days
Didn’t mind about my selfish ways
As he died, I was miles away

And I hope he remembers how
As I do when I look back now
Though he’d bark at the slightest sound
Wouldn’t bite for he knew not how

- So Much For Everyone (Postcards & Daydreaming, 2005)

At the funeral, I raised my hand to speak, but when I got to the front of the church, I just cried and cried. I don’t remember if any words came out. They were so sweet to me and they’d write me letters. I always responded.

Me and my best bud Hoover, sailing in Toronto Harbour on Lake Ontario (note the CN Tower in the background)

Thomas knew the tides and understood so much about the sea.. every day, on our sailing trips, we’d haul up crab traps full of crab using the little dinghy that towed behind La Sonrisa. He’d let me skipper the 10hp dinghy (turtle for slow, rabbit for fast). He’d scour the shoreline at dawn and come back with buckets of mussels and oysters. I was a kid surrounded by the most incredible fresh seafood and all I wanted was a hot dog. He showed me how to tie knots.

LEFT TO RIGHT: Thomas’ youngest Noel, my brother Neil, my sister Kate, Thomas, and me on my mom Louise’s lap

I remember him always either with a cup of coffee or boxed red wine in a small sipping glass. Boxed wine was where his was propensity to drink met his infrastructural frugality. He was very kind. One time we had a 3 hour flight delay. Everyone was so mad at the flight attendants but he was utterly gracious, and before the flight took off, to our surprise, they’d changed our seats to business class.

I was a west coast kid, but to Thomas I owe a taste of old world Canadiana that can only be experienced in Ontario. Playing hockey on frozen ponds in the woods behind the manse where we lived. I remember Hoover tussled with a porcupine and Thomas expertly pulled out dozens of quills from the pup’s muzzle. Again, I just cried and cried. At the time, I thought I would grow up to be a veterinarian.

Me about to attack my brother Neil in Marty McSorley fashion. He got me back one day, knocking out most of my left front tooth with a hockey stick. The temporary cement was replaced a handful of times over the years until I just got a proper crown last year.

I was a city kid but I truly appreciate how he instilled in me a love of the outdoors. He was kind of like Captain Highliner to me. Or Captain McCallister from The Simpsons. He taught me how the pulley system worked that sent the dinghy out far enough so it wouldn’t get grounded by low tide. I remember him in gumboots. Huge crab boils right on the beach bonfire.

We all have differing accounts of what happened next, but I ended up floating in the barrel far enough from shore that I legitimately had a complete meltdown / screaming fit and Bruce swam out to bring me back.

He lovingly called me “Dinnell” - a truncated Daniel (I was always Daniel until age 12 or so when everyone just started calling me Dan).

Glasses twinsies! I had a lazy eye as a kid and had to wear an eyepatch for several years. Kids in kindergarten called me “Eyepatch Dan” but back then, it was out of respect because pirates were cool. Eventually, my eyes got strong enough that I no longer needed glasses.

He spent the final chapter of his life with his wife Elizabeth in an off grid farmhouse on a remote island. He always had a homesteader ache and they lived just how they wanted.

Thomas and his wife Elizabeth at my wedding in 2012.

He died on Saturday. I’m told he went peacefully at 81. I hadn’t seen him in a long time, but I loved him, and I will always remember his strong, calm kindness. Also, the impact that his sons Eric, Bruce and Noel had on my childhood was huge.

He’d already raised a family by the time I came around, but he dedicated himself to me as a guardian, and without pretending to replace my dad. He always spoke of my dad with respect. Above all, it’s his kindness I will remember and cherish. He was a big part of my life at a formative time. Thanks, Thomas.

La Sonrisa is Spanish for “the smile”. Sail onward into the great cosmic smile.

Love you ❤️

Thanks to my mom Louise for sending me a slew of old photos last night and prompting many nostalgic memories.