Last Acts

In Ottawa

We lost Kevin/dad/grandpa (KGP) this month. He died after a short stay in a hospital in Guyamas, Mexico on 2025-12-14.

He’d been at the house in Ottawa just 4-6 weeks before that. He was in Ottawa for some follow-up appointments at the cancer clinic for treatments he’d received in the summer and joined us for Thanksgiving.

On our last day together, a rainy one, he popped by the house following his last appointment. He borrowed some dry clothes, we solved a couple computer related issues he was having, had coffee and soup from the night before.

We drove out to Bayshore Shopping Centre before midnight to catch a bus to Toronto. It was dark, raining, and unclear where the bus would stop. As we drove around the centre, we came across a woman walking about who also seemed to be looking for the bus stop. She didn’t didn’t know either, but was glad to be able to hop into our car and search from the warm dry comfort of a car. We found the spot and chatted until the bus came.

It pulled into a spot that we weren’t exactly at, so we quickly drove up along with the other cars doing similarly. We hugged and KGP was off– back to Mexico.

In Mexico

Dad fell and was found in his house and then rushed to hospital by ambulance in early December. From the fall (possibly), KGP was confused and unable to speak lucidly for about a week. It was a week before he could be identified and Government Affairs Canada was able to reach out to us. When it did, we were able to get involved. Through Beatrice, a lovely and helpful Guaymas resident in the hospital also, we were able to speak with him over WhatsApp. He was difficult to understand and we began making arrangements to see him.

On the shuttle ride from Ottawa to Montreal, Terry and I exchanged emails about finding contact details for an English speaking priest on the ground should dad need/want one.

Ali and I flew down on Saturday evening to get there Sunday morning– our route was from Montreal to Guadalajara to Obregón. It was Air Transat’s first flight to Guadalajara– the route is necessary for upcoming World Cup things apparently– and there was a party at the departing gate. Anyone around was handed slushy drinks and hors d’œuvres. It didn’t matter that the flight was delayed in leaving– we had a long lay over in Guadalajara– we were delayed and arrived around 2 in the morning to a large and thunderous mariachi band welcoming us and distributing gift bags!

Our flight to Obregón was on time and we picked up our rental car without incident. Just after we’d grabbed a coffee at Caffenio and a toothbrush at Walmart, as we were kicking ourselves for not getting the beer we’d drink with dad in the hospital room, we got a message letting us know dad had died at 4:50 that morning. We made our way to the hospital and found dad’s body. He died of septic shock aggravated by an abscess in his liver. The doctors discussed with us dad’s stay in the hospital– he had some lucid moments while there. Thinking that dad had recently spread Kim’s ashes in the sea in front of their house, we intended to do similarly with his’.

Over the next couple days, in addition to settling and cleaning his house and estate as much as possible while on the ground, we celebrated dad. We had a ‘last drinks’ on the margarita deck. Ali and I attended in person, Gill and Cait virtually, and dad in spirit.

The golf course in San Carlos isn’t run as a golf course anymore– they aren’t watering the course or maintaining the property. There are some «guerilla golfers» that still go out, but otherwise it is mostly a good walk no longer spoiled[?]. There are some wild horses, you can ride mountain bikes, and there are birds you can watch– honestly its a pretty good improvement over the motorized drinkers and smokers that used to be native to the area. Ali and I walked ‘9 holes’ on two of the morning we were in San Carlos. As we wrapped up the back nine, it occurred to me that ‘18’ was probably the last hole of golf that dad and I played together– 20 years ago.

On Thursday December 18th 2025, on a beautiful and calm day on the Sea of Cortez, on rented kayaks, Ali and I paddled way out beyond the point visible from dad’s house. We dialed Gill and Cait into the call and spread dad’s ashes into the sea. Finally back together with Kim.

Only not quite! The cleaners found Kim’s ashes back at his house on Friday. So with our limited Spanish we were able to beg/borrow a kayak from the kid we’d rented them from the day before. We made our way out again to properly reunite Kim and Kevin.

As notorious a sun and warmth seeker as KGP was, it is not obvious he fully considered how cold the water was in his final resting spot– the 2 hearty Canadians were surprised how cold the water was at this time of year in the Sea of Cortez. Fun to think about, though he isn’t really in a place anymore.

KGP’s tendency was to live as a hermit– to his benefit, and her credit, this was very difficult while he was married to Kim. While there, Ali and I met people who knew and remember dad well from when he was married to Kim. We also met people who’d only come to know KGP in the last year in which rides and conversations were shared (Martin). We also met and spent time with people who spent time with dad in his last couple weeks. Beatrice held the phone for us while we talked to KGP in the hospital.

There is a Keeper obituary and one on the Montreal Gazette’s site

RIP KGP