For Uncle Bob




Uncle Bob and Aunt Doris,
the cutest couple I've ever known and two of my favourite people.



Bob McCulloch

July 2, 1916-August 10, 2013

For Uncle Bob, who was not really my uncle but the husband of my grandmother’s cousin. Who spoke with the most brilliant Scottish accent even though he lived in Canada for more than half a lifetime. Who sang, with his wife, my Aunt Doris, in the chorus of an amateur theatre group when I was growing up and whom I could always pick out on stage because he towered over everyone else, sending his distinctive voice out above the crowd.

For Uncle Bob, who always made sure you knew he was delighted to see you or hear your voice on the phone. Who was always genuinely interested to learn about what new things you were doing.

For Uncle Bob, who was a stand-in with Aunt Doris on grandparents day when I was in grade three because my grandparents lived in Scotland. Who sat proudly at a table-clothed table set amongst a sea of tables and grandparents in the gym with roses in vases and cakes and tea, and beamed as my class stood and sang on a make-shift stage.

For Uncle Bob, who would tell a story, which was usually always funny, then sit back with a satisfied grin on his face and a glint in his eye while everyone laughed. Stories about his time in Africa during the war, about the boxer dog they had before I was born and how he broke his father’s prized violin the day he borrowed it.

For Uncle Bob, who was the first person I knew to know everything about computers and to have a cell phone and own a digital camera, which he would pull out of his pocket with a wide smile on his face and point out all the options with unwavering fascination.

For Uncle Bob, who sang to his wife on their 60th wedding anniversary, nine years ago, the song from the movie they saw on their first date.

For Uncle Bob, who drove till he was 95, who was fiercely independent, who was a beautiful human being and a joy to be around.

You will be so very missed.