I always enjoyed reading this when I visited Nana and Grandpa at their house... An Ode to Jack 'Twas two nights after Christmas and the room was tight smack For everyone was listening to the history of Jack. He's a jolly young fellow from head to toe Who has many a friend and not one foe. He was a wild young fellow who was out every night Who liked a good dance and an occasional fight. But then one night, while on his rounds All of a sudden his car broke down. Low and behold, Mademoiselle Bradshaw arrived And helped dear Jack and his car survive. Like a flash from the sky, 'twas love at first sight And Miss Bradshaw and Jack went off in the night. A short while later they were blessed with two girls With beautiful faces and lovely long curls. Patsy and Jackie were their names And life from then on was fun and games. Now everyone knows Jeannette's an excellent cook Who could easily write her own recipe book And who, for the apple of her eye, bakes homemade pie. Many an hour Jack spends shining his car Instead of wasting time at the local Blue Bar. He drove from Victoria with a touch of class And is known never to miss Saturday night Mass. On Tuesday nights, Jack's shining his shoes For the card party on Wednesday, where he'll catch all the news. When Spring rolls around, Jack and Jeannette are sure to be found Out in their garden spreading manure around. From then on, from dusk until dawn You'll find them outside, mowing their lawn. In the dead summer heat we're swamped with Jack's purple beets. Yes Jack's garden feeds us well, Spring, Summer and Fall. When Margaret and Jim are off on a trip Jack is up to the farm with a hop and a skip. He places the egg baskets in a nice neat row Gives us hell - if it isn't just so. If the mention of a party should drift by Jack's ears Jack, dog-gone it, will sure as heck be there. He likes one hundred per cent Canadian Rye And after a few drinks he's ready to fly.

I will miss you terribly, but take comfort in knowing that you are now reunited with the love of your life. I will love you always and forever!

Farewell Jack In heaven, Jack has driven up to the pearly gates, In his big Victoria Transport, Honking. Candy in his pocket, The passenger’s seat a magical memory for kids. In heaven, Jack is playing cards, and talking too loudly With Lloyd Hunter, Johnny Calder, Ethel and Art Klodt And many other friends and neighbours, The next generations of Haley children, remembering his skill with a deck of cards In heaven, Jack is eating french fries, with ketchup And eggs With ketchup, And broccoli soup, With ketchup In heaven, Jack is dancing with Jeanette, And smiling down on Jackie, and Pat and Phil And Mary and Teresa, and Jim and Margaret And all his grandchildren and great grandchildren And nieces and nephews, and grand nieces and nephews And telling them he is at peace now In heaven, Jack can drive horses that don’t need to have a fire lit under them to go and he can (if he wants to) ride his bicycle to the schoolhouse anytime (poor Jim always had to walk, both ways, uphill) In heaven, all the wood is already chopped, So you can play outside instead. And the wallpaper beside the old woodstove is fireproof. In heaven, Jack can go for walks in green hay fields Behind the house, with Jeanette, and Blondie. Pick vegetables from an everblooming garden, And sleep on fresh, air dried sheets every night. In heaven, Jack can “warsh” and polish his car until it shines. And not worry about some Haley kid Running their grubby fingers along it. In heaven, everything is free, But Jack will probably still try to sell someone eggs And horde all the creamers for Margaret’s fudge. In heaven, the Maple Leafs will occasionally win a game, Not like all those Saturday nights that Jack shared With daughters and nephews and nieces in the porch. You would think the Leafs could have heard him from there Giving advice on how to win. In heaven, every Sunday The same pew is reserved for Jack’s family. And in the evening, the air is filled With the smell of a home cooked roast, And pie, and love. In heaven, the house will always have a fresh coat of paint, Sparkling white and green, The grass is always cut, the eggs gathered, And plenty of time is leftover For a game of baseball on a warm summer’s eve. Followed by Jeanette’s pickled eggs and sandwiches And a cold beer. In heaven, Jack, your body will stay young and never tire, The hum of 18 wheels passing by, and a friendly honk Will always be a welcome sound. And from heaven, your generous and outgoing spirit, Will always fill a special place in our hearts.