George Williston MacDonald

Our father, George Williston MacDonald, was a force of nature, so it was only fitting that he reached the end of his life’s journey in the middle of a hurricane. And, as we all knew he would, Dad powered his way through his illness with an indomitable spirit and joy for life that few people manage on their best days, let alone in their dwindling hours. Hopeful til the very last breath, he embodied an optimism that we’d all be lucky to match.

Loyal to a fault, Dad was also proud, fierce, brilliant, compassionate, fair and protective. Two of his granddaughters summed it up perfectly when they recently visited him in the hospital and created an anagram of his name on the whiteboard in his room: Gorgeous Energetic Optimistic Really funny Golfer Everyone’s literal favourite person ever.

Dad was born and raised in Sydney. He left home at 17 (after reluctantly accepting that the NHL wasn’t calling him up), but Cape Breton forever had a hold on his heart. After graduating from Engineering and Law School, he started his family and a brilliant legal career in Halifax with Gina, the love of his life, by his side. Theirs was a true partnership and in his final days and weeks, Mom was unwavering in her support, care and devotion to Dad.

Throughout our lives, Dad’s three daughters, Kelly, Cindy and Katie, all secretly believed that we were each his favourite, which Dad used to say was evidence he’d done his job well. But the real competition began when the grandchildren arrived. Dad’s eight grandkids adored him and vied for his attention. He never once said “Later” or “I’m busy” or “Ask your mother” – whatever they wanted or needed from him, he provided without reserve. He was so lucky to also have eight years with his great-grandson, Decker, who recently asked Dad after his great-granddaughter, Lucy, was born, if he was still Dad’s favourite. Quick, witty, and diplomatic to the end, Dad replied, “You’re my favourite great-grandson.”

A practising member of the Nova Scotia Barrister’s Society until the day he died, Dad truly possessed all of the characteristics of the ideal lawyer – honesty, integrity, ambition and an incredible work ethic. But a healthy dose of arrogance and his unrivalled competitiveness were what set him apart. This drive to be the best at everything he did led him to huge successes in the courtroom and beyond. He was named to so many Best Lawyers lists we couldn’t possibly list them all and he loved telling you about his latest accolades. Those of us closest to him lost count of how often we heard one of his favourite and most-used phrases - “Show me a good loser and I’ll show you a loser,” which says it all.

But as much as he loved to win, Dad was also a dedicated mentor and teacher to young lawyers just starting their careers. Dad never said no to an opportunity to help a junior lawyer and as long as you demonstrated a sincere effort and willingness to learn and work hard, he would happily include you in whatever case he was working on. But many young lawyers also learned the hard way how quick he was to dismiss you if you tried to cut corners or make excuses for sloppy work. The George MacDonald “death stare” was notorious and once you were on the receiving end, you had to work damn hard to earn a second chance.

Outside of work, however, Dad was gracious, patient and genuinely interested in everyone he met. He was never too busy to stop and chat and he had an innate ability to make deep connections with people from all backgrounds and walks of life. Dad loved welcoming people into his life, his home and his family.

During Covid, Dad and Mom moved to the Farm – the beloved family compound that they expanded through the years to accommodate our growing family and any friends or stragglers who happened to show up. Dad’s final years were happily spent on the banks of the Wallace River, looking out over the beautiful fields he loved so dearly. We were lucky enough to get him out for one last kayak two weeks before his death and as he paddled along the river he knew so well, he was still in awe of its beauty.

When Dad finally had to retreat to the hospital, he was amazed at his luck for landing in such a special place as the Palliative Care Unit at North Cumberland Memorial Hospital in Pugwash. The compassion, empathy and care he received from the wonderful people in this facility brought peace and comfort to his final days. Of course, the staff had to be taught how to interpret Dad’s responses to their questions about his health. His stoicism and stiff-upper-lip personality made it nearly impossible for him to complain or show any sign of discomfort. The staff learned quickly that Dad truly believed he was Superman and figured out a way to discern how he was really feeling, even when Dad was reluctant to show any weakness. This quick thinking allowed Dad to maintain his dignity, while receiving the relief he needed from the symptoms that were slowly draining him. We have immeasurable gratitude for the staff who took such spectacular care of Dad in his final days. We also want to thank Dr. Sue Robinson, Dr. Andrew Humphreys, Dr. John Stein, and Dr. Richard Langley for their caring and diligent support of Dad through the years.

Dad is survived by Gina (née Stoddard), his wife of 58+ years; daughters Kelly (Kurt), Cindy (Brian) and Katie; grandchildren Jake (Ashley), Will (Zoë), Sam (Sinead), Julia (Shawn), Sophie, Georgia, Malcolm and Bella; great-grandchildren Decker and Lucy; step-grandsons Jarek and Stefan (Lauren); sister Betty (Billy); many nieces and nephews. Dad also leaves behind a huge group of friends, some of whom have been in his life for decades, others who have only recently had the privilege of knowing him.

The family held a visitation in J. A. Snow Funeral Home, 339 Lacewood Dr., Halifax, on Sunday, September 24th from 2:00-4:00 p.m. and 6:00-8:00 p.m.

A Celebration of Life Service will take place at Bethany United Church, 2669 Joseph Howe Drive, Halifax, on Saturday, November 4th at 2:00 p.m. Reception to follow in the church hall. The service will be live-streamed at the following link: https://youtube.com/live/2ML4x-SpMUU for those who are unable to attend the service in person.

In the meantime, Dad would love for you to raise a glass and toast his incredible life while you listen to the Tim McGraw song “Live Like You Were Dying”, which became our anthem for Dad after his Leukemia diagnosis more than a decade ago. And if you’re able, listen to it while you’re standing on the chairs around your kitchen table, belting out the words at the top of your lungs, like we always did with Dad.