William Charles Frederick Keeler (Alison Pearce)

Bill Keeler has been in my life for 9 years and when I look back on those years I can’t think of what my life would have been like without him in it. I have been truly blessed and at a time in my life when I had not expected such blessings. Bill and I had a common interest in genealogy and family history. We each went to the monthly Middlesex Genealogical meetings when we first came to London.

So you see! We didn’t meet on-line as so many young people do today. Had we gone on line we would have had to give a personal profile – a sketch of ourselves. They might have read something like this.

Bill Keeler: widower, age 82 -have had 56 years of marriage – doesn’t like to listen to classical music; independent – strong minded – used to setting the rules 

Alison Pearce: spinster, age 75: single all these years; doesn’t like to watch John Wayne movies; independent – strong minded – used to setting the rules

Well there we have it. The perfect match!

But there was so much more to Bill’s personal profile. He had a real sense of humility and though he was neither spiritual, nor religious, he truly lived, “The Golden Rule”­—”Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you.” In all the years I knew Bill I never heard him once say an unkind word about one person. He was a true gentleman, kind and considerate and anyone who met him could sense these qualities about him. Always impeccably dressed and always with his long-sleeved shirts and trousers pressed just so. 

Bill had a great sense of humour too and believe it or not we laughed together many times during this past year.

I don’t know of any person who could be as kind and thoughtful as Bill. I had just met him at the time that my sister Mary, who lived in St. Thomas, had died. When Bill asked me if he could help me in any way- such as driving me to St. Thomas for the visitation or the funeral – I thanked him and said I would be fine. Then within minutes I realized what I had just done and I quickly picked up the phone. Thus began a long series of Bill doing things with me and for me. He helped me to arrange birthday parties for one sister when she was in the McCormick Home. He drove me to Aurora every month to visit my oldest sister Norine in her retirement home, before her death three years ago. As the oldest in the family, Bill and Norine were very much alike. They were both the role models for their younger siblings.

One time when I received an invitation to a book launch, from a former pupil, that was to be held in Casa Loma, it was Bill who said, “Well, what’s holding us up?” Down we went to Toronto. Four years later we attended Andrew’s wedding, as well.

In 2000, I had moved from Toronto to London to research and write the history of my Elgin County family and to have it published in time for our 200th anniversary in July 2009. That was a little more than two years down the road -from the time that I had met Bill. Although he had already written and printed his own family history, mine was still underway. I had no idea that putting all the historical chapters, data and family pictures in book form, was as complicated as it was. With Bill’s knowledge and many hours of working together, our excitement eventually rose to fever pitch. We headed down to Milton to pick up the printed copies two months prior to the July reunion taking place. And yes, Bill was every bit as pleased as I was, with our labours.

Later on we had two wonderful trips – the first to the West Coast in 2010 where we visited Bill’s brother Don and his wife Shirley; a year later out to the East Coast and to the very tip of Newfoundland.

But it was the little things that Bill did that counted so much too; driving out into the country for brown eggs, or picking up some maple syrup; over to Port Stanley for a perch dinner, or to the Pearce Park in the fall to hear the crunch of leaves underfoot.

As time went on, our outings became fewer and farther between because of Bill’s oxygen needs. He would work in his basement on his stamps for hours at a time when he said, “I don’t think of my breathing then.” But there are times when cabin fever can set in for any one of us. Bill loved to get in his car and just GO!

One misty Saturday last October he called me early in the morning. His first, and I think his only words were, “I’m taking you for a drive up north”. I knew he hadn’t the foggiest idea of where we were going, and I also knew we had three hours of oxygen. After I made some calls and plans off we went through the country to Grand Bend, saw a few coloured leaves in the rain around Parkhill, had a fantastic lunch in a restaurant called F.I.N.E. – and arrived back in London just under the wire. That was our last “out of city” outing.

These last two or three years in particular, have not been easy for Bill. I know, and I became quietly anxious, as I saw him requiring more and more oxygen just to keep going. What courage and determination he had.

But he lived to celebrate his 90th last August. Although he gave me a wonderful party for my 80th, Bill did not wish to have a 90th party. Part of it may have been that he was finding it just too tiring to be around people, but part of it was Bill’s own nature. He would rather do for others than have others do for him.

I believe that we all have lessons to learn as we journey through life. So what lessons did Bill teach me?

Well #1 I’ve learned never to use a comma where there should be a semi-colon. #2 I’ve learned I could be quiet for at least 10 seconds when riding in Bill’s car. #3 And I know that when I get up, I must first get dressed – no sitting around in your pajamas having breakfast just because you’re retired.

BUT most important of all. I’ve learned that if you’ve had a bad day with someone close — or anyone, for that matter — learn to let it go. Don’t continue to have regrets about yesterday’s ills. The next day is a “new day”. Make it count. Bill tried so hard to monitor and control his breathing needs so that he could have as many “new days” as possible with all of us. But his final “new day” came on February 24th. How fortunate we were, that all of us, his family, could be there together in his room sharing our love with him on this, his last “new day” here on earth.

I shall miss you Bill.Thank you for being such a wonderful part of my life, for just being you – for doing things for me and with me over these many years. And thank you too, for making me such a part of your caring and loving family.

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