Two weekends ago, we made our way to our old stomping ground in Toronto to be with some dear friends. We wanted to bid a friend farewell. More importantly, we wanted to spend time to revel in his life, his work, his family, and the friendship we will sorely miss.
Scott’s passing was unexpected, unforeseen, totally from left field. One Sunday evening, he was series-bingeing late at night in their family room, a pastime he had recently taken on. By the next morning, it was too late for any kind of intervention.
We had promised Sheelagh, his wife, that we would come, no matter what. We kept our promise. We snuck away from work and any tethering ties in San Francisco briefly, to be with Sheelagh and her two kids, their extended family, friends, and Scott’s colleagues at the U of T.
We were blessed with a gorgeous almost Fall weekend just outside Toronto, in Halton Hills, where they made their home on a 30+ acre farm. We listened as family and longtime friends spoke, remembering Scott and the various people he has touched in his lifetime. We were able to reconnect with family and friends who we had met over the years that we were friends in T.O. It was endearing that some of them even remember me as one of Sheelagh’s bridesmaids at their wedding.
Scott, we will sorely miss you. But you don’t cease to be a friend even when you have passed on. You will always still be G. Scott Graham, husband to Sheelagh (Kemp), father to Steven and Shelby, professor of Computational Science and Mathematics at U of T, author of books, gentleman farmer. More than anything, you will always be a dear dear friend: my first ever friend who had one eye green and the other blue, who crooned with a deep voice, and danced at the cottage with Sheelagh when the radio show would end with an old song at 11:00 p.m.