I attended a funeral on Saturday afternoon in Conquest.
It was for the late Darren Stephenson, a long-time farmer from the area who had been battling an illness and sadly succumbed to it in mid-March.
The service was held at the rink, and man oh man, the turnout was incredible. The floor was packed to the gills, so much so that I ended up sitting in the top row of the bleachers. That ended up being a very solid decision because from that angle, you get a bird's eye view of everyone gathered together.
In short, Darren sold out the joint.
It was a wonderful service, packed with memories of who he was as a person, told to everyone by his wife Shannon and daughters Skylar and Kendyl. There were laughs, there were tears, there was music, and there were photos.
And there was one very unique aspect of the service.
You see, Darren was a former athlete who played a whole lot of hockey over the years. His go-to meal before every game, it was learned, was Kraft Dinner. With that in mind, Shannon and the girls brought with them a gift from the family to the guests who came and attended this celebration of Darren's life. They brought in several cases that were filled with boxes of Kraft Dinner, with each individual box featuring a photo of Darren and a cooking tip on how to enjoy it "his way"; disregard the milk that the recipe calls for and simply use more butter.
Do you want the truth? I've never attended a funeral or a celebration of life service, or any event for that matter, where a family decided to bring in several cases filled with boxes of Kraft Dinner to give away at the door. But from my perspective, here's the beautiful thing about that. We've entered into a day and age where funerals aren't so much about the doom and gloom of death, and they're more about paying tribute and remembering who the departed were as human beings. This was Darren's go-to meal before every hockey game, so Shannon, Skylar and Kendyl decided to share it with all who came today. It's unique, it's different, and it was very much Darren.
There's just something that's so beautiful about that, in my view.
I can remember my dad's service back in August 2013. Obviously, the Monday that started that week was one of the most painful days in my existence as we all came to grips with the fact that Jack Ruttle was no longer with us. However, by the time the service began on Friday morning at the Conquest rink, I was all cried out and simply wanted to remember my dad for the man that he was to me. I wrote a tribute to him that was read by the minister, and I did my best to keep it at light as I could and I tried not to bog it down with too much wishy-washy, overly-emotional sadness. Because that's not who my dad was, ya know? And isn't it kind of the job of the departed's family to maintain the spirit of who the person was, especially at their funeral or celebration of life service?
Luckily, it seems that the world is catching on to this idea.
It seems that Brentnol ‘Bonny Brent’ McPherson was a performer right until the end.
McPherson was a popular Guyana-born drummer, who was named Canada’s reggae drummer of the year in 1986. He passed away in 2021 at the age of 68, succumbing to a cancer illness.
His final farewell came in perhaps a fitting fashion; during his visitation at Scarborough’s Covenant Funeral Home, McPherson was propped up behind a drum kit, looking for all the world like he was ready to start playing away for the mourners in attendance, and dozens more around the world watching online.
It was, said his wife Denise McPherson in an article for the Toronto Star, a fitting tribute to a man who spent his life immersed in music.
“Music was such a big part of his life. This was the perfect way to say goodbye. I know he would’ve been smiling,” said Denise, who admitted the send-off was something of a surprise cooked up by her husband and funeral director Luann Jones, a family friend.
“It was all him and Luann. He told me ‘when I die, just give my body to Luann,’” said Denise.
Jones said there was pressure to live up to her friend’s legacy.
“I just wanted to do it up right,” said Jones, who was pleased with how it turned out. So too, she said, would the guest of honour himself.
I love that story. Is it a little bizarre and kinda 'out there'? Of course it is, but again, these kind of events and services need to reflect the people who everyone is there to honour. The man was a celebrated drummer, so let's remember him that way.
I have to admit, things like this make me think of my final days on this earth. I have some very general ideas that I'd like to see carried out, such as no sad, wailing songs dealing with deep loss, no minister or other religious figureheads handling my service, and I'd like a whole lot of Tom Petty played during my service.
There are other things I have in mind, but I think those are best to be revealed when my expiration date is looming closer. Hopefully, that's still many, many years down the road.
But none of us truly know when our number's going to be called, do we? After all, Darren Stephenson was only 54.
My best to Shannon and the girls. I think I can speak for those in attendance when I say that you did Darren proud.
Maybe those things I have in mind will come to be revealed sooner than later, after all.
For this week, that's been the Ruttle Report.
