Robert John McNaught

Beloved husband of Sharon McNaught (nee Brydges). Loving father of Sandra Infanti, Robby McNaught (Keri) and the late Allan McNaught. Proud Papa of Chad (Holly), Krista (Ryan), Travis, Tanner, Ava and Megan. Great Papa of Leighton, Locklyn, Tripp, Tallinn and soon to be baby Gridzak. Son of the late Leonard and Margarette McNaught. Dear brother of Sharon Leach (late George), Marilyn Washington and the late Deanna Turcotte. Bob will be sadly missed by Eloise Odber (late Joe), Colleen Wasyliniuk, Brenda Brydges, by his dear friend Ryan Corcoran, his fur baby Tucker and by many nieces and nephews.

Bob lived and thrived sober for the last 54 years by the support of many friends through Alcoholics Anonymous program. Our family would like to extend a most heartfelt gratitude and appreciation to all the employees and volunteers at ARCH, especially towards ours and Bob's favourite nurse Erica. A special thank you to Dr. Booth and to the team at Bayshore especially to Rochelle, Cindy and Natalie.

At Bob's request there will not be a funeral service and a Celebration of his life will be announced at a later date. Arrangements entrusted to the Arthur Funeral Home - Barton & Kiteley chapel (492 Wellington Street E. 705-759-2522). Memorial contributions (payable online or by cheque) to ARCH would be appreciated. Fond memories and expressions of sympathy may be made at www.arthurfuneralhome.com for the McNaught family.

Leave me beside our blue spruce tree

so that beneath its roots I can sink.

When the cones turn pink, think of me.

I hope by this point, my life was all it could be,

and that my lips never again touched the drink.

Now, leave me beside our blue spruce tree.

You might wish for more time, and of course I agree

any price would be worth one more blink.

But when the cones turn pink, think of me.

I don't wish to rest in the sea

Turmoil, torrents, in its silence I'd shrink

So please, leave me beside our blue spruce tree.

You must remember that in this place I'm free.

I knew early I was the paper, and you all, my ink.

As these cones turn pink, think only of me.

You'll see me again, not so soon hopefully -

when eternity ends, and our souls again sync.

Leave me within our blue spruce tree.

My cones are turning pink, now watch, and think of me.

Travis McNaught