REFLECTION | One Year Ago
One year ago, on Sunday, 02 August at 5:17PM, after an afternoon spent with the support of his sister, Ingrid, I said my final goodbye to Bill. It broke my heart.
His obituary was published in his hometown paper on Saturday:
William Arthur Gulliver passed away in Oakville, Ontario after a short and tragic illness that took him far too soon, on Sunday, 02 August 2020 – his Anam Cara, Lee Currie was by his side.
Bill is survived by his four children: Terry, Paul, Molly and Connor; and, his four step-children, Claire, Cole, Chloé and Caden Currie. He is also survived by his brothers, John, Peter and Christopher as well as his sister, Ingrid Wilson. In addition to his immediate family, Bill leaves behind an incredible extended family and countless friends.
Bill loved everything in life with great delight and enthusiasm, he was an all-in kind of guy. His favourite things included: Hatfield Point & Belleisle Bay, kids & dogs; all things Bruce Springsteen; baseball caps; pizza, burgers & lobster; Tom Brady & Gronk (he’d have been hard-pressed this past football season to cheer for anyone but his beloved Pats, but his heart was with his boys); purple, the colour made him happy; his Irish roots (even when he learned he was more Scot than anything else); long drives; CNN; banana cream and key lime pie; the Notre Dame sports program; poker; reading and discussing the works of Thomas Merton, Carl Jung, Christopher Hitchens, Richard Rohr, Gabor Maté, Anne Lamott & Brené Brown; cheering for the Montréal Canadiens; his impressive and ever-growing collection of lush leather notebooks (filled with his beautiful handwriting); “liking” posts on Facebook, connecting with old friends, and meeting new people; yellow houses; talking for hours to parents about their kids and his assessment of their potential – always kind and honest, not an easy task; and, endless middle-of-the-night YouTube rabbit holes listening to and sharing his favourite music, and he loved all of it.
Bill did not much like Trump; strawberries; how mental illness is not addressed in a kind and caring manner in society; mussels; losing his hair; blood tests & doctors; and, Lactulose.
Bill was a storyteller, a true Seanchai.
“The Irish way of telling a story is a complex and elaborate one, complete with wild exaggerations, a certain delight in improbable fantasy and a heightened sense of drama.”
– Rashers Tierney –
The hockey rink was Bill’s happy place and it brought him great joy to be in one to watch, coach or play. He leaves behind a number of young men who benefitted from his competitive yet gentle disposition, his knowledge of the game was unmatched. He was a tremendous athlete though equally a poet and philosopher. He found a way into everyone’s heart; he was truly irresistible.
After bravely picking up the broken pieces of his life, all of Bill’s dreams were coming true: a business with huge potential was being built that brought together his love of music, writing and sports - he simply ran out of time.
He is deeply loved and greatly missed.
. . .
Later today, to celebrate Bill, we're gathering on the porch to picnic on his favourite "dirty bird" (KFC), drink some tequila and share stories about the impact he had on all of us. There will likely be laughter mixed with tears. The soundtrack will be all things Bruce Springsteen, of course (with maybe a dash of Glen Hansard, Warren Zevon, and Jackson Browne, too). I am so grateful for everyone near and far who, out of love for Bill, has shown up for me this year. He truly was my most favourite man, ever. #FocusOnTheLove #NotTheLoss