Saturday, May 7, 2022
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My father Ronald Puddister died on April 29, following a short battle with pancreatic cancer. He was 64.
Life for me is never going to be the same. My dad was my hero. He was the model of what a good man, husband, father, son, and brother should be. Nothing was more important to him than family, and throughout his life he always made sure that his family was taken care of.
That was true even when he was growing up. His father and my grandfather was a fishing boat captain. My dad was the oldest of seven children and helped look after his brothers and sisters during the long periods when Pop was out at sea.
It was also true when he became a father himself. He did everything he could to create a good life for my mom, brother, sister, and I (not to mention our beloved golden retriever Winnie). In that he succeeded, because our family had a wonderful life together.
Growing up I always felt grateful for my family, and I still do. Dad was the bedrock of our family. He worked hard to provide for us. He always supported me. He provided his children with a strong sense of values. He inculcated in us the importance of a good work ethic and a sense of responsibility, both individual (“One man, one kit”) and collective (“Many hands make for light work”).
Dad was born in Harbour Grace, Newfoundland on Sept. 12, 1957. He was the first member of his family to attend university and graduated from Memorial University in 1979. He enlisted in the Canadian Armed Forces in 1982 and spent 35 years in the military, reaching the rank of lieutenant-colonel. My interest in military history stems in large part from Dad’s occupation.
More than anyone I’ve ever known, Dad lived life to the fullest. His interests truly seemed boundless. He was an avid traveller who visited nearly 70 countries in his lifetime and was always looking to book the next trip. He was a boater, fisherman, and outdoorsman, taking my brother and I on camping trips and serving for a time as a Scout leader. He was an athlete who played soccer and golf, ran several marathons, stayed active later in life, and fervently supported the Toronto Raptors. He was a voracious reader who could speak knowledgeably on topics from history to astronomy to literature. Right up until the last weeks of his life, he continued to attend his weekly German classes.
Music was a major part of our relationship. My dad played guitar and encouraged me to take lessons when I started playing around the time I was 14. In his retirement, he started practicing again because in his words, “I want to play music with my son.” We had so many great jams together. Dad was a huge fan of Bob Dylan and Neil Young, and introduced me to both. We played a lot of different material during our jams, but blues might have been the most fun; I thought we did a mean rendition of Robert Johnson’s “I Believe I’ll Dust My Broom”. Some of his favourite songs were “Teach Your Children” by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young; “Father and Son” by Cat Stevens, and “Music and Friends” by Simani, a Newfoundland standard.
The last novel my Dad ever read was Dune. He read it because he knew how much I enjoyed those books. That’s the kind of person my dad was: always attuned to other people (especially family), always eager to learn and experience all he could.
All this is barely scratching the surface. I could talk endlessly about my dad. He was always a very humble man and didn’t like people to make a fuss about him. But I’m going to make an exception here because he was the greatest, and I’m so proud to be his son.
My heart is shattered that he’s gone. I miss him so much it hurts. But I’ll always treasure the time I had with my dad, and he will live forever in our memories. He inspires me to try to be a better person, to help others, to care for family, and to do the best we can with the short time we have. Always striving to do that is the best way I can honour him.
I love you, Dad. Rest in peace.
