Henri Frechette

Passed away on Friday June 30, 2006 at the age 70 with his family by his side. Son of the late Emile Fréchette and the late Colombe Thibeault. Predeceased by his son Yvon and his brother Roger (Mireille). Beloved husband of Ghislaine Séguin. Dear father of Michel (Wendy), Denis (Joanne) and Louise. Cherished grandfather of Alex, Adam and Jessica. He also leaves behind his brothers and sisters, Maurice (Gisèle), Paul, Emile, Rita, Pierrette (John), Gisèle, brothers-in-law, sisters-in-law, nephews, nieces and friends.

My Dad

Baseball. He taught us all to play and to love and respect the game. I think I could catch a ball before I could walk! Dad played catcher all his life and Yvon was a catcher, Denis was a pitcher and I played both. We would play catch for hours from the time I can remember. I would come in the house afterward, showing off a red and swollen hand, a badge of honour in our household, a sign you’d made the team. Dad loved the game and he taught us everything he knew. How to field a ball, how to throw, catch, hit, steal, the importance of positioning, how to read the game, and the subtleties of mindset and nuances of strategy. He played ball all his life and was an umpire for many years. If I close my eyes I can still see him calling a strike or waving a man safe at home. I can still see him helping Yvon with his throw to second or showing Denis how to perfect his drop or improve his curveball. I can still see him standing across from me, throwing the ball at me. I still hear the sweet sound it makes as it smacks into my glove. I still see the smile between us, a bridge of sinew and leather and love that held us all together during those sweet summers of youth.

Though baseball was number one in Dad’s heart he was also an avid hockey fan and when we were kids and hockey season was upon us, Dad would build a rink for us. How often we would play out there, stars all above, our breath ragged plumes trailing behind us, as we swerved and glided in the cold night air. Our laughter and cheers hung and echoed across the empty white fields as we dreamt of Stanley Cups and scoring the winning goal.

Dad would have made a great sport’s ambassador. He was a great proponent of fair play, sportsmanship and integrity. He participated in many sport leagues for many years including: baseball, fastball, softball, ice hockey, broomball, curling and bowling. He had an especially wicked spin on his bowling ball and would hurtle it with such force that in the days of “pin boys” his reputation was notorious and they stood three lanes down whenever he shot! He amassed many trophies over the years and though he was very competitive, they were of little importance to him; the sport was what was important, the camaraderie of a team, giving your best and the execution and the art of the game itself. He taught us that, in life as in sport, you had to win and lose with grace, do your best and always give it your all.

Dad was always quick with a joke and loved pulling one over on someone (especially Mom). He’d give us that old conspiratorial wink, then do something to get Mom going and sit back chuckling contentedly to himself. He loved teasing Mom and never passed up an opportunity and she’d invariably reply with a laugh and a smile, and finally an exaggerated sigh and an “Arrete donc Joe”. (Mom’s pet name for Dad – pronounced J(eau) rather than with the English long “o” sound). He was a funny guy with a quick wit, always ready with a reply. He loved to make people laugh and loved being clever. Mom always said he could charm his way out of almost anything, in fact, I think her exact words were, “ That guy can get away with murder….”. I say if humour is your best weapon, use it. I know it served him well.

Dad loved music and he loved to sing. When he was little his grandmother loved to hear him sing and would always demand a song whenever she saw him. Dad met Mom when he was 14 and it wasn’t long before he was singing love songs for her. He had a wonderful voice and sang often, a sound that will always echo in our hearts. Dad loved everything from “the crooners”, to Slim Whitman, to Patsy Cline, to Al Martino, Luis Mariano, Dean Martin, Roy Orbison and many in between. Every Sunday morning we awoke to music, the sweet sounds rousing us from sleep, his voice carrying upstairs as he sang along. When Dad wasn’t singing he was whistling. He was a gifted whistler, able to warble intricate tunes and melodies. He found joy in music and that joy lives in us all.

Other Things Dad Loved:

Every cowboy, detective, or murder mystery movie or series ever made – I know, we sat through them all!

Variety shows that included music, comedy, dancing.

Building and flying kites with us.

Making home-made spaghetti sauce spicy enough to make us cry.

Yelling “POW” really loud at the scariest part of a movie so we’d all jump ten feet off the floor.

Home-made french fries.

Playing cards, especially cribbage.

Baking cakes from scratch.

Gravy.

Apple pie with tons of cinnamon.

Mom’s tortiere.

Lemon meringue pie.

Learning – He always made us look everything up. He’d point to the bookcase that held several different encyclopaedia sets and a dictionary. Trust me they got a lot of mileage.

Crossword puzzles.

Christmas – We always had to have a real tree, Dad would never abide an artificial one. He always put the lights on himself explaining the importance of positioning as he went along. We would then go to town with the glass ornaments, ever mindful of the importance of filling gaps and color distribution. Lastly, he would finish the job by painstakingly applying tinsel one strand at a time, till it hung in even sheets on every limb. Decorating the tree was an art in our house and we always had the best trees. Every year Dad also always put an onion and a carrot in our stocking to remind us that there were kids who had nothing for Christmas.

Canada Day – Came only second to Christmas. Dad loved Canada Day. He was very patriotic and always said we lived in the best country in the world. When we were little, I remember us 4 kids in pyjamas, scrambling for the car to go see the fireworks on parliament hill. Dad wove his flag proudly and was always proud to be Canadian.

Tomatoes, onions, potatoes, and eggs – no one has ever eaten more of these four things in their lifetime than my Dad.

Reading.

The Blue Jays.

The Chicago Blackhawks.

Educational T.V. shows on any and every subject.

Salt and vinegar chips.

Hotdogs.

Macaroni.

Home-made beans.

Beets – he had some with every dinner.

Game shows.

Tea – there was always a pot on the stove.

Black Pepper – he would put a thick layer on everything he ate.

Home-made soup – Dad always made the best.

Philanthropy – he gave monthly to various world wide and local children’s organizations including Christian Children’s Fund, World Vision, Leprosy Foundation, Make a Wish Foundation and The Children’s Hospital Fund.

Corn on the cob.

Beer.

Playing pool.

Bonfires.

The Byward Market – he loved friendly haggling over prices with the vendors and they all knew him well. Dad was always trying to get a better deal or a better bargain and they’d invariably always give it to him. They enjoyed his banter as much as he did.

Flowers.

The sun – Dad was a sun worshipper and loved the heat. He absolutely hated being cold and wore his beloved long johns most of the year.

Photography – he spent his first five years in the Royal Canadian Air Force as a photographer.

God – Dad was not a regular church goer but he had a very deep and strong faith. He shared with us his love of nature and his wonderment at all of God’s creation. He had a deep and abiding belief in the will of God and placed his fate in His hands. I know he is with Him now.

And of course us, his family. Mom was the great love of his life. Through it all his love for her never waned, never faltered, in his heart she always remained, soul mates to the end.