Joao Almeida Coelho da Silva

words? You can't, but I have to try.

He was born in the small town of Casal Boieiro in Portugal in 1937.

It was just him and his brother working the farms with his father, before heading off to serve in the army.

When he returned married my mom.... They were married what will be 51 years ago in February.

They were joined by a bouncing baby girl, my sister the

following November.

But times were very different then in Portugal.

They are not great economically now either, but they were under a dictatorship back then. And the only way to a better future for his family my father saw was through France.

So he left his wife and infant daughter and headed across a couple borders, and made his way to Versailles.

There he worked for two years as a mechanic to get the paperwork in order to bring his young family to Canada.

They already had friends in Vancouver so they made their way to the West Coast.

It was hard, not speaking the language, but of course he did what he excelled at... worked hard.

Now in construction, my mom working in restaurants.. Soon enough they had managed to save enough money to buy their first house by scrimping and saving.

Then 17 years after their first baby arrived, another surprise... me.

Then a few years later his two beloved granddaughters.

And throughout the years, the hard work and sacrifice was always to make our lives better.

Family, was what mattered, whether here or back in Portugal with our 2 or 3 month long trips every other summer.

Trips that for me were a vacation.

For my dad, just a new locale for his many projects.

There was always something to do... Fixing the roofing tiles, the weeds of course needed to be trimmed, or maybe this was the summer for new floors.

And of course we had to, and I always enjoyed, our trips to the "fazendas"... our varying small pieces of land spread out all over the place.

He needed to check them out, wrestle with the weeds to find each marker and share the stories of who owned each piece of land on every side.

And whether here or in Portugal, the MacGyver in him always shined.

He could fix anything and had an amazing knack of transforming things into something else.

Looking around our house we have lots of stuff, but he kept everything because everything had a purpose or at least it COULD

definitely come in handy one day.

The hockey stick- hook contraption he created to help him unload the firewood from the truck, our greenhouse made completely of office windows he rescued from various remodeling jobs complete with a glass front door with an address. The empty containers he cut the top off and nailed to a stick to use pick plums off the top of our tree.

He really could fix everything and jerry-rig anything together.

And no request for help was too large or too crazy.

One summer it was to build a carnival's worth of games in my back yard... including a 9 hole mini golf course.

The first one my friends and I built was ok... but it was small and pretty plain. Sure enough once he jumped in, the rest were at a minimum 8 feet long... including one with a spinning door and one with a bridge over a little pool.

And of course he would use his skills of invention, or simply his work ethic to help anyone.

All we have heard the last few days has been about what a good neighbour he was. If someone needed a tree cut he would do it.

If you needed his green hands... that is right hands, he had far more than just green thumbs, to grow some trumpets for your front yard or get your tomatoes started he would do it. Shovel your driveway, he would do that do that too.

And if you ever just needed some vegetables no problem... He would grow enough tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, potatoes, lettuce, broccoli and the list goes on... to feed and army and wouldn't let anyone refuse to take some as a parting gift when they visited.

He was a man who could never stop doing things, which is why this past year was so hard for him.

He went to the gym three morning a week until February when everything changed. It wasn't fair.

And while I can't find a reason why this happened. I know he would want some good to come from what he went through.

Either though donations to the BC Lung Association, Heart and Stroke Foundation or Pain BC.

Or if it a lesson others can learn from what he went through.

If you or someone you love is sick, you have to fight the system.

Don't be satisfied with what anyone tells you, question and push for an answer.

You have to be an advocate.

The last thing you want is to lose someone like him wishing you had done more.

There will always be hole now... But we will remember how he always had a smile on his face, and was quick with a joke of some kind. Even as we searched for pictures these last few, days it was hard to find serious ones, because he was always making a face or doing impression of a nearby monkey statue.

He had a strong sense of right and wrong and would give you the shirt off his back in a heart beat to help you.

And we will miss him forever.