Michael Daley

It is with great sadness that the family of Michael Daley announce his passing on March 24, 2021, at the age of 79. Mike leaves behind his wife Lorraine Daley (Topolnitsky), as well as his three daughters, Barbara, Bonnie, and Jacquie Daley, his sister Sheila Robinson (Daley), his brother John Daley (Phyl), former wife Sandy Daley (Heron), nephews, nieces, countless friends, and dear cousins. He was predeceased by his father Patrick Daley and mother Dorothy (Morley).

Mike was born November 6, 1941 in Liverpool, England. A born adventurer, he led a rich, full life right from the start.

Mike's first adventure began in an air raid on Liverpool during WWII when his Mom, Dorothy, went into labour while her husband, Patrick, was off fighting the war. The ambulance made its way to the hospital as bombs were falling around it. Perhaps that explained Mike’s steadfast, fearless nature.

When Mike was three, he had a tricycle. He loved his tricycle and rode it every day, peddling further and further from 246 Kingsway each time. One day, he reached the Huyton police station and wandered inside to say hello. Realizing how far he had come, the policeman on the desk asked one of the constables to buy Mike an ice cream cone. This proved to be a mistake as Mike became a daily visitor to the Huyton police station after that.

Mike loved transportation of every kind. He knew that the number 75 bus would take him from Roby to the Pier Head in Liverpool, where the ferry boats to his Auntie Kath's boarding house were moored. So, one day, Mike climbed aboard the number 75 and headed upstairs to the front of the bus. He was young enough to travel free and was seated next to a family. Upon arrival at the Pier Head, the conductor noticed that Mike was alone on the bus. The inspector was called, and the family notified. No ice cream was involved in this adventure, so it wasn't as popular as the Huyton police station visit.

Once the end of the war seemed certain, five-year-old Mike, who had yet to meet his father, was told that Dad would soon be coming home. To make sure that he didn't miss him, Mike began asking every serviceman he encountered whether he was his Dad. There were a few nervous responses and quite a lot of embarrassing situations for his Mom.

The family immigrated to Canada from Liverpool in 1955, living in London, Ontario for the first five years. During this time, Mike made many life-long friends.

Mike was a protective big brother. He taught his sister, Sheila, how to jive but immediately told her that rather than dating boys, she should stay home and read books. He was always there with the appropriate advice. He took his responsibilities to his family very seriously.

Mike continued on his adventurous path as a young man by joining the Royal Canadian Air Force. He later switched careers and worked his way up the ranks of IBM in the early days of computers, first working in the plant, later as a computer programmer, then in sales, and finally in management.

During this time, Mike, Sandy and their daughters went snowmobiling, waterskiing, camping, and skiing in the Rockies on many occasions. Road trips included sing-a-longs to Be-Bop-a-Lula and Heart Break Hotel. Always.

Early in 1982, Jacquie and Mike packed up for a spring break road trip. The plan was to spend it in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. They left Markham, Ontario in his Celica and drove non-stop. It was just the two of them, blasting the tunes -- Hotel California by the Eagles was top of the list -- and zipping in and out of traffic. When they arrived late at night they checked into a hotel and later woke up to two inches of snow on the ground. It was right then and there that they decided to carry on to sunny Clearwater, Florida where Mike’s parents, Dot and Pat, spent their winters. This was long before the age of cell phones, so nobody knew to expect them. The knock on the door happened at 3:00 am, to the cries of, “Surprise!”.

Later in the ‘80s, Barb joined Mike at IBM in Ontario to start her own career. As she made the move from Alberta with only a few days’ notice, she was invited to stay with him for a spell. On the first week there, he gave her lessons on how to drive a standard car, which happened to be a Ford Mustang that was fresh off the lot. The following weekend he and Lorraine went sailing, leaving her with his new car so that she could drive around and get to know Toronto, which she nervously did with a carload of new friends. Clearly, he felt that his fearlessness should run in the family.

Upon his retirement from IBM, Mike and Lorraine went sailing in the Caribbean for five years. Mike was an outgoing, kind man who saw the good in people. He often had a big smile on his face and a keen interest in saying hello. He made friends easily, enjoying a good conversation with anyone who was amenable to a chat. When his daughter, Bonnie, flew down to the Bahamas to sail with him, she became concerned when, after waking from a nap, he was nowhere to be found onboard. When she looked over to see another boat anchored 100 feet away, there he was, having a laugh with some people she’d never seen, beer in hand. When he returned a short time later, she asked him if he knew the people. He was surprised. “Oh no. But sometimes in life you just have to motor over in your dingy and say ‘Ahoy!’”. A lesson she never forgot.

Besides the sea and sailing, Mike also loved motorcycles. He blazed across Canada, up to Alaska, and throughout the United States on many occasions. His daughters Jacquie and Bonnie have wonderful memories of touring Vancouver Island on motorcycles with him and stopping for one or two ice cream cones along the way, of course.

During a later summer, John and his family rented a house in Scottsdale, Arizona. He had been in contact with Mike and Lorraine who were touring on Mike’s motorcycle, trailer in tow. Their destination was Yuma, but they made the side trip to Scottsdale. There, he and John were able to share concerns they both had on the health front. Neither realized at the time the journey each would have ahead of them, health issues they both would face with sheer grit.

In his later years, as dementia started to set in, Mike was prone to sharing many great stories about his life's adventures. Those close to him got to know the stories well and without a doubt could only admire him for the incredible life that he had led. He leaves us -- daughters, wife, sister, brother, other family members and friends -- pondering those great adventures still. He is remembered with great love.