A visiting volunteer from Hospice Niagara, I remember my first meeting with Ron...he offered me a huge smile, his gentle brown eyes twinkled, and despite the fact that he couldn't speak more than a few words, he made me feel most comfortable. From that point on, I looked forward to spending time with him. As we grew to know each other, I became very fond of Ron..despite all the adversity he'd been confronted with over the past several years, he managed to stay upbeat and positive, maintained his contagious sense of humor, and had an inner strength that shone through all of his physical and emotional challenges...right up until the day the good Lord called his name and took him home. I was only a part of Ron's life in a small way, and for a short period of time; but his impact on my life was huge. He taught me so much. I will always be grateful for the time I spent with him; and when I think of him, his smile and handsome brown eyes will forever warm my heart.
One of the many qualities Ron had was his sense of humor. He could make anyone smile & laugh and laugh at himself. I think back to summertime around the pool, Ron would do his 'oldman' routine. He'd pull up his shorts high up around his tummy, push out his tummy, then walk around joking and make us roar. Sammy would always tell him not to push his tummy out like that or it would stay that way, which then he would try and push more, he did that so well, haha ! As much as I miss him, remembering that still makes me laugh.
My brother... a man with so much heart. He loved people... he especially loved women. Nothing made Ron smile faster than a huge "Hi Ron" from a good-looking woman. And that smile was warm and huge. His big brown eyes sparkled and you knew he was real. Ron was three years younger than me. I've known him all my life. I've loved him all my life. Just when we were really getting to know each other, Ron had a stroke. I used to kid him that I was calling just to hear his dulcet tones. He'd laugh. Those tones were silenced when he had the stroke one evening in 2000 while watching Jeopardy with his daughter, Cassandra. After that he had six words, hi, bye, yes, no, but and God. He could get just about everything across using those words as long as you knew the right questions to ask. It had to be excruciatingly tough for a man who loved to talk and joke with people to suddenly be unable to talk. I'm sure there were many tears. Ron decided that he didn't want to have much to do with me when he was going through the grieving process. Being disabled and unable to walk myself, it wasn't easy getting to him, I couldn't really help him and he was struggling to accept his new self. After he fell downstairs the end of October 2008 and was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer, I knew I simply couldn't stay away no matter what he wanted. As it turned out, he accepted me back into his life, we grew close and l spent every Thursday morning with him at the hospital while he had fluid drawn off his abdomen. Those Thursdays were precious to me. I looked forward to ever one of them. We laughed, we talked as best we could. Growing up, our mom and dad, Ron's kids, his work, his wife, death and his final wishes were all discussed. The last Thursday morning I spent with Ron I think we both knew it was different. I stood by his bed and put my hand on his chest. He held it. We both cried. There wasn't much to say except I love you. He whispered, yes. A lifetime of memories of a good man who did his best at everything. His father would be proud. A good brother I'll carry in my heart forever. I can still hear him say Bye, Bye. Tears won't bring him back, and I doubt if he'd want to come back, but he is still very much alive in the hearts of those who love him dearly.
My Sweetie, my love, my friend, my Ron. I miss your smile, your handsome brown eyes, your laughter, your kisses & the touch of your hand. I miss you so much. I love you. Your in my thoughts & heart everyday.