Thomas Dean McCrorie

Thomas Dean McCrorie passed away exactly how he lived his life: surrounded by love.

He leaves behind a family who adored him, a lifetime of stories, and several unfinished projects he was definitely going to get back to.

Tom shared 55 years of marriage with his wife Cheryl - the love of his life, his partner in everything, and the woman who spent over five decades watching him confidently say, “I’ve got this,” moments before proving he did not, in fact, have this.

Their life together was built on love, resilience, laughter, and a shared ability to survive whatever Tom decided to try next.

A decorated detective with the Toronto Police Force, Tom served with distinction in the bomb squad and Emergency Task Force before later bringing his investigative skills to the banking industry in Vancouver. Yet he would be the first to say his most important role in life was as a husband and father.

He was a proud father to three children: Wesley (Mary), Michelle (Jeff), and Darcy (Jeremy). He was also a loving grandfather to Grace, Samantha, Brayden, and Sebastian, all of whom will grow up hearing legendary stories about their Gampi’s adventures and his questionable decision-making. Tom and Cheryl’s beloved dog Charlee survives him as well, though “dog” feels inaccurate, as she is very clearly treated as another child in the family.

Tom believed in challenging himself at every opportunity. Whether it was skydiving, motorcycling, or taking on a home improvement project with the confidence of a man who had never once watched a tutorial, he approached life with enthusiasm and just enough “Sure, I can do this” to keep things interesting. He had a particular talent for falling off ladders, injuring himself mid-project, and then insisting he was “fine” while very much not being fine.

He was also a man of strong opinions - and if you knew him, you heard them. Often.

But underneath the stubbornness, the risk-taking, and the ongoing war with basic safety precautions, was a man who loved deeply, spread joy everywhere, and showed up for his family every time. He worked hard and made sure the people around him knew they were never alone, even if they were occasionally handed a tool and told to “hold this” for longer than anyone should reasonably have to.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you honour Tom by challenging yourself with something new, and maybe - just maybe - using a spotter when climbing a ladder.

He will be deeply missed, endlessly loved, and remembered every time someone says, “How hard could it be?” right before finding out.