Farewell Ian

This afternoon, more than three hundred people flowed into the Canadian Memorial Church to mourn the passing of our friend Ian. The church, which seemed, quite large at first seemed to shrink as more and more people poured inside. Ian clearly touched many lives.
Ian wasn't a close friend of mine, rather he and Cathie were friends of our friends John and Max. Like us, John and Max tend to host a lot and that's how we knew Cathie and Ian.
At parties, I tend to find a comfortable spot to hunker down. I gravitate towards similar people and with very few words exchanged I knew immediately that Ian was also one of those people. We would often chat leaning against the kitchen counter comfortable knowing that our better halves were out there socializing, confident that all the important news would make its way back to us sometime later that night. We would talk about meaningless distractions like Kobe and Shaq or nagging pains in his feet and my knee. We would talk about work and play, but nothing too serious. Then we would turn to coaching and Ian would come alive. He had a passion for it. He had hopes and dreams for so many of the young lives he touched. While those hopes may have been hidden beneath a layer of gruff sarcasm, it was a thin layer, and the excitement shone through. I saw so many young faces in the crowd today and it made me sad to think of their loss. I can't even imagine the loss his own two boys will feel over time.
I had the chance to talk to him not long ago, when there was still hope, and I marveled at his composure, at his refusal to feel sorry for himself, at his ability to find humour in tragedy. He was getting better then and yet he knew that the cancer could come again without notice.
Ian had been sick for so long now that most who knew him had a chance to say goodbye in some way. But gathering in one place was hard. It was hard not to feel how terribly unfair death can be. He was my age and we had a lot in common. My heart aches for Cathie and her children. I just can't imagine.