Tough beginning and tough times did not diminish the Loewen's sense of humour. Brothers Marlin and Maynard remember that when a practical joke was pulled, Orlando was often the instigator. The family dog never did figure out that the blanket with food on it was spread over an open trapdoor to the cellar. He took many quick trips. Mother Annie was never able to prove that the wood in the flour bin was put there by Orlando.

Hard times meant that schooling was not a priority. Like many young men, Orlando worked at many jobs, turning his hand to a number of trades.

A big change came in his life when, in his 20's, Orlando's heart was captured by young Mary Warkentin. She knew she was hooked when he stopped his car one day to give her a ride. A certain other young woman was asked to move into the back seat so that Mary could sit up front. Their marriage was to last 36 years.

A shortage of work led the young family out west in 1969. With two young children and another on the way, Orlando and Mary hoped to make a better life in the Fraser Valley.

He worked as a labourer, a bricklayer, and even had a very short and forgettable stint as a used car salesman. Things changed for the better when he hired on at Westburne Industries, where he was to stay for the next 20 years.

The bare facts of life tell us little about the man. Orlando was like many of his generation - hard working, independent, never sure when hard times would return. He was not particularly well read, nor was he ambitious. And yet his apparently ordinary life gave rise to an extraordinary man.

Not long after he began to work at Westburne, he began to develop severe asthma and emphysema. These ailments were progressive and led ultimately to his going on disability leave in 1992. I mention these afflictions precisely because Orlando almost never did. Many of us, when struck by disease or infirmity, allow it to take over our lives - to redefine who we are. Orlando, perhaps drawing on the legacy of tough times, but certainly manifesting great character, never did allow ill health to dominate him or his life. If his actions or his energy were constrained by illness - so be it - he found new things to do. Many of his friends or acquaintances never knew the extent of his illness. Phone him up and ask him how he was, the answer was always the same - "Oh, I'm fine." Only Mary knew of the pain that was with him every waking hour. Only to her did he confide his great wish - to be able to draw one deep breath.

Pain and illness may have provided an inescapable backdrop for his life, it did not set his priorities. Orlando Loewen did what he could. He was profoundly committed to his family - Mary, children Darrell, Dawn, and David, and to his grandsons Dallas, Dean, Adam, and Ryan. His greatest pleasure in life was looking after his family and spending time with his friends. His great fear was that he would lose his ability to provide for them all. He fought successfully against this until the night he died.

People might think that his battle to breathe would make him a dour or sad man. They would be wrong. The humour and mischievousness that characterized his youth were as abundant as ever. Just this last Hallowe'en, Orlando and Mary's neighbours were about to complain about the grandsons setting off firecrackers in the backyard. They became aware that the kids had a ringleader - the biggest kid, Orlando, was behind it.

Those of you who have visited Orlando recently have undoubtedly been exposed to his passion for bread and pasta making. A visit to the Loewen's meant good food, good drink, and good humour. I stand before you as evidence of his need to feed people.

He would not quit. This man who once took a lawnmower to the entire garden was seen lovingly rearing an abundance of flowers in his back yard on Trethewey. His basement is filled with projects begun and not yet begun. He spent no time in regrets - no time lamenting his fate.

The tragic death of son Darrell early this year was a great blow, yet I do not believe, as some do, that it weakened him. I think it strengthened his resolve to protect those he loved. When he was taken from us on Tuesday night, it was a struggle. The strength of his spirit was much greater than that of his body. I know that his sadness and fear were not for himself, but for Mary and the family he left.

When someone is taken from us so suddenly, we often wish we could have had a final conversation - a last chance to say what we think or feel. Let us remember that those taken probably wish for those final words as well. I think I know what Orlando's last words would have been. To Mary, his children and grandchildren, "I love you." To the rest of us, "Look to those you love and who love you- look after them." I know that his spirit watches over those here.