Jack's Photo Album

In Loving Memory of
John Walter (Jack) Stewart
March 1, 1922 - April 10, 2002

WE DO NOT NEED A SPECIAL DAY
We do not need a special day
To bring you to our minds.
The days we do not think of you
Are very hard to find.

Each morning when we awake,
We know that you are gone.
And no one knows the heart ache
As we try to carry on.

Our hearts still ache with sadness
And secret tears still flow.
What it meant to lose you
No one will ever know.

Our thoughts are always with you,
Your place no one can fill.
In life we loved you dearly;
In death we love you still.

There will always be a heartache,
And often a silent tear.
But always a precious memory
Of the days when you were here.

If tears could make a staircase,
And heartaches make a lane,
We'd walk the path to heaven
And bring you home again.

We hold you close within our hearts;
And there you will remain,
To walk with us throughout our lives
Until we meet again.

Our family chain is broken now,
And nothing seems the same,
But as God calls us one by one,
The chain will link again.
~ Written by Connie Dyer, BP/USA, Springfield, IL

This is one of my grandfather John Sr. and my dad John Jr.
This was taken when they left to go to war.

This is a photo of my dad and my grandfather during the second world war.

Inscription For A Garden Gate
Pause, friend, and read before you enter here.
This vine-clad wall encloses holy ground.
Herein a mellowed garden dreams away the years.
Steeped in serene, sweet light and muted sound.
Herein tranquility and peace abide.
For God walks here at cool of evening tide.
Pause, friend and strip from out your heart.
All vanity, all bitterness, all hate;
Quench, for this hour, the fever of your fears.
Then, treading softly, pass within this gate.
There, where the ancient trees wait, hushed and dim...
May you find God, and walk awhile with him.
~ Author Pearl Hiatt.

These photo's are quite special as they are of the day my father came home from the war.
If you look closely in the background in both photos, there is a big banner on the house
that reads " Welcome Home Son" The photo on the right is of my dad, my Aunt Lucy,
and my Grandfather. All are now angels.

In the photo on the left, dad in his uniform at 16 years old. On the right,
Sgt. John Walter Stewart in his 48th Highlanders Uniform. His birth
and death dates are March 1st, 1922 - April 10th, 2002.
Full name is John Walter Stewart but always called Jack.

In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Written by John McCrae

My dad and one of his very best friends J.P.
They were on parade in this photo.

Dad with Royal Canadian Mounted Police Friends.

First photo is of dad as a young boy already sporting the 48th Highlander dress,
and then a photo of him at age 4 years old.

Grief
Don't tell me that you understand
Don't tell me that you know.
Don't tell me that I will survive,
How I will surely grow.

Don't tell me this is just a test,
That I am truly blessed,
That I am chosen for this task,
Apart from all the rest.

Don't come at me with answers
That can only come from me,
Don't tell me how my grief will pass
That I will soon be free.

Don't stand in pious judgment
Of the bounds I must untie,
Don't tell me how to suffer,
And don't tell me how to cry.

My life is filled with selfishness,
My pain is all I see,
But I need you, I need your love,
Unconditionally.

Accept me in my ups and downs,
I need someone to share,
Just hold my hand and let me cry,
And say, "My friend, I care."
By Joanetta Hendel, Bereavement Magazine

On the left is my Dad at age 9 years old on his sleigh,
and then on the right is my Dad and his grandmother.

"Rejoice with those who rejoice
and weep with those who weep."
Galations 6:2

My dad in the top right hand corner holding the towel. He lived for baseball.

Dad in his police uniform.

My dad, mom, family and very good friends on one of their many vacations.

Dad in Florida he loved to travel during the winter months, going to the United States
was one of his favorite places.

The photo on the left is Dad, Garth and Gary. The next photo is of my dad and his first wife Norma; sadly Norma was killed in a tragic car accident when my brothers Gary and Garth
were quite young. This photo was taken in June 1952 on a family trip to Niagara Falls.

Memories Author unknown
The certain special memories
That follow me each day,
Cast your shadow in my life in a certain way.
Sometimes the blowing wind
Or the lyrics of a song,
Make me stop and think of you
Sometimes all day long.
Memories are good to have
To share and keep in my heart,
Just knowing that you're still inside
Makes sure we'll never part.

My dad the day he was invited by the Queen for a garden party.

Dad at the Queens Garden Party in Toronto.

This is the last photo of my dad, it was taken on his 80th Birthday.
Sadly he passed away just 3 weeks later.
My Dad was a Guards Men for Queen Elizabeth and the Queen Mum. Strangely enough the Queen mum died a few days before my dad and on the day that she was buried my father had been unconscious for 2 days.
As I sat beside him in his hospital bed I turned on the T.V. to watch her funeral at that point my father sat up and tears rolled down his face. The next morning he passed on at 9 a.m. I can't help but think he is now still standing guard for her in Heaven.

To send an email to Jack's daughter, Sheri, click on the maple leaf below ~

Welcome to Sheri's Angel Pages

Till I’m Too Old To Die Young
Written and performed by Moe Bandy
If life is like a candle bright
Death must be the wind
You can close your window tight
And it still comes blowing in
So I will climb the highest hill
To watch the rising sun
And pray that I don't feel that chill
'Till I'm too old to die young

Let me watch my children grow
To see what they become
Oh Lord don't let that cold wind blow
'Till I'm too old to die young

Now I have had some dear sweet friends
I thought would never die
Now all that is left of them
Is the tear drops in my eye
If I could have one wish today
And know it would be done
I would say every one can stay
'Till they're too old to die young

Let me watch my children grow
To see what they become
Oh Lord don't let that cold wind blow
'Till I'm too old to die young

The photo at the top is of Jackallynn and her papa on their last Xmas together. Jackallynn was very close to her papa and she drew this for him and put it on his grave. I snuck it off, I just didn't have the heart to leave it behind just incase it got damaged from the rain.

The photo at the top is of Ryanne, Stewart and their papa. The photo on the bottom is of Kristopher and his papa. Sadly you can see the the tumor had grown quite large and this would be the last photos of my dad and his grandchildren
and our last Christmas together.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!
Text by Mary Frye

This is a life long friend of my dad's, Piper Murdock "Fergie" Ferguson. My dad would always ask him to play the pipes for him and he did,
right to the end he piped for my dads funeral it was most touching.
Just like dad wanted.

Please also visit Jack's Christmas Page

And also please visit Jack's Birthday Page