THE PATRIARCH

“Are you here for the Cairn funeral?”

The question posed by the dutiful funeral director was directed at an elderly couple as they entered the McKinley Funeral Home in Chatham.

“Yes, we’re here for the Jake Cairn wake,” replied the silver haired woman.

“Step right this way then. The Cairns are just over there, in the room to the left.” He waved them forward with his right hand in a smooth motion that reminded me of icing a cake.

I was bewildered.

I had heard Jacques affectionately called Jake by his brother Roger and his sister-in-law Marcia and then it dawned on me that in an English community like Chatham, it made some sense to anglocise Carron. I wondered briefly if I should start introducing myself as Mike Dowell.

An hour earlier that Friday evening, Terry and I had accompanied Jacques’ sister Fran to the funeral home. My trepidation about such places quickly vanished as we were made most welcome by the graciousness of Jacques’ three sisters, the friendliness of his six brothers and the politeness of his many nieces and nephews in attendance.

A beautiful collage of pictures of Jacques and his family was on display as well as a book of photos and best wishes from Jacques’ retirement party from Brebeuf College four years ago.

The funeral took place in Pain Court at noon on Saturday. Although Jacques’ hometown just outside of Chatham is too small for a Tim Horton’s or even a gas station, it is big enough to support a beautiful Catholic Church, Immaculee Conception, whose walls resounded this day with the joyful operatic singing of Anthony Cavaiola from Brebeuf College. Not only did Anthony sing hymns in English and Latin, he also warmed the hearts of the Carron family with a French hymn at the Offertory.

The funeral mass was preceded by the reading of the eulogy Jacques had prepared with me weeks before. The beautiful drawings depicting attitude and gratitude, Jacques’ anchors, adorned the church altar as I read the English version of his last words. What an honour indeed although I wish someone had given me a heads up about my special role in the ceremony before I was pressed into service.

At the conclusion of the Mass, his sister Fran was asked to approach the altar and sign Jacques’ name in a book of remembrance for all the deceased members of the Immaculee Conception church family. Then his brother Roger came forward to take Jacques’ ashes and lead a procession up the main street of town to the family plot in a large grassy cemetery, Jacques’ final resting place. Such processions have been a unifying tradition in Pain Court for generations and I was touched the family’s outpouring of affection for their dearly departed brother.

Upon our return to the church, a light lunch greeted the 150 people who were in attendance. Somehow, I almost missed the spread as I was busy talking with Larry Vindischman and Peter Cromien, retired colleagues from Brebeuf. Larry is in his own cancer battle these days fighting multiple myeloma and I promised that I’d visit him in Windsor before his 70th birthday in August.

As I surveyed the hall just before Terry and I left for home, I realized that Jacques had been the superstar of the Carron family. He was the one who lived in the big city, who had travelled the globe, who had the successful professional career. He was the one who had taught his brother Ivon and sister Bernadette when they were in high school in the seventies; he was the one who had always been there with a shoulder for a brother to lean on, a hand to wipe away a tear for a sister, a sage word of advice for niece or a nephew, and a good bottle of wine or two to enliven a family reunion. Indeed, Jacques was the family patriach ...and he will be sorely missed.