Obituaries

I was saddened to see that Clint had passed. He was my step-cousin. My grandmother, Margaret Hurst, married his grandfather, Alfred Hurst. I grew up around Aunt Hilda, Uncle Cec, Clint and Doug and many fond memories. The best memory is of my grandfather and Clint watching hockey and the shouts of excitement used to startle me until I understood what they were cheering for! They would get so much enjoyment out of the game and each other. My grandpa had a special place in his heart for Clint. I haven't seen anyone since I left over 40 years ago but still have so many fond memories of family gatherings. My thoughts and prayers to his family and friends.

Doug: We are so sorry to hear about your brother our deepest sympathies are with you and your family at this time. Brian and Leila

We are very sorry to hear of Clint's passing. Our family always enjoyed watching Clint and our own son Donald Jr at the Blue and Gold Bowling league. It was easy to tell they enjoyed that time very much. Our thoughts are with you.

It is hard to believe that Clint is no longer with us. Although he is no longer here physically, I know that myself and my family, and those who knew and loved Clint, will cherish the lesson he taught us all forever. Clint taught us that no matter what card life has dealt you, you can still find joy and happiness in the things you love. It is foolish for anyone to think that just because someone has an intellectual disability, they cannot accomplish anything. I would say that Clint accomplished so much more in his life than some may have expected, and he overcame many challenges. I am proud to call Clint my uncle. I will leave off with the poem 'Picture Puzzle Piece,' as it is quite fitting to Clint.One picture puzzle pieceLyin' on the sidewalk,One picture puzzle pieceSoakin' in the rain.It might be a button of blueOn the coat of the womanWho lived in a shoe.It might be a magical bean,Or a fold in the redVelvet robe of a queen.It might be the one little biteOf the apple her stepmotherGave to Snow White.It might be the veil of a brideOr a bottle with some evil genie inside.It might be a small tuft of hairOn the big bouncy bellyOf Bobo the Bear.It might be a bit of the cloakOf the Witch of the WestAs she melted to smoke.It might be a shadowy traceOf a tear that runs down an angel's face.Nothing has more possibilitiesThan one old wet picture puzzle piece.- Shel Silverstein

My sincere condolences to Aunt Hilda, my cousins Glenn and Doug and their families, on the loss of Clint.Clint spent a week at the farm one Summer while his parents were overseas. Like the rest of us, we all had our chores to do. Clint was asked to remove the grass from the raspberry patch. As usual, he did his job to perfection. There was not one blade left when he was done. I could not believe that anyone had that kind of patience. We knew from a very early age that Clint was a little different. We observed how Uncle Cecil and his family treated him with love, respect, and dignity, and how he was always included in all that they did. I am very grateful to uncle Cecil and his family for teaching us such a valuable life lesson.Thank you, Cousin Den