Elegy to a Barber

                I read once that small hands do what they must, and move the world, while the eyes of the mighty look elsewhere. This is a thought that has been much on my mind since Tuesday, and the passing of my Grandfather.

                Hilliard Laidman did not move mountains, nor did he part seas; he did not command armies, nor did he seek fame. He was a barber, a milk man, a salesman. I can say without insult, that he was a simple man. He was a man who cherished the everyday produce of a life well lived.

                Friends knew that here was a man who would give them the very shirt off his back, without reservation, a man generous of spirit. A father young, his family knew the blessing of his devotion, a blessing that only grew with age, and through tragedy. Losing the first love of his life far too early to cancer, he rallied, and found love again, one that would last him to the end of his days. He grew his family at a time when mixed family homes were neither common nor fashionable. He showed us all that true family does not lie in ties of blood, but rather in the bonds of love.

                Hilly had a youthful spirit, one he was eager to display. Children flocked to him, sensing in him a kindred spirit, despite his towering frame. Their reward was laughter and whisker burns, doled out in equal measure. Even with age, and increased frailty, this exuberance did not diminish; this is how his grandchildren, born generations apart, can share smiles and memories of this laughing eyed Bounder.

                He taught us that the only currency of lasting value is the love of family and friends. As times toughen, as they always will, it is this love that provides for us the capacity to overcome. This is the most valuable lesson a young man, often wayward, could learn from his Papa.

                Hilliard “Red” Laidman was nothing more than a simple barber from Binbrook. He was also one of the best men I have ever known.

                His body is gone, returned to the ground, but his memory lives on in our heads and our hearts. I ask that we all honour that memory today with our smiles and our laughter. I know that this is what my Papa would want of us.