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"Unable are the Loved to die - For Love is Immortality."Emily Dickinson


This memorial website has been created as a tribute to my father, Clayton Joseph Gillett who was born on November 12th, 1945 and passed away on March 19th, 2007 at the age of 61. You will live forever in our memories and hearts, Dad.

Please feel free to light a virtual candle, leave a condolence or a memory as you pass through. The site is always under construction, but if you would like to have any information/photographs added or make any corrections, feel free to contact me.

Thank you for stopping by. 

 


Eulogy
by Joseph Gillett
March 24th, 2007
 

We are here to celebrate a life - the life of a great man - a husband, a father, a brother, an uncle and a friend that you could call on at any time or place and he’d be there for you.
 
Clayton Joseph Gillett was born on November 12th 1945 to mother Margaret and father Ernest. It was quite the Brady Bunch affair with a certain backwards flair, growing up in that small, cottage sized home in Puslinch where they all shared rooms, chores and apparently clean clothing, socks, shoes and mitts. I think all you brothers and sisters know what I mean when I say that getting up early in the morning definitely had its advantages.

Moving forward a few years now; they met in their late teens, working separate jobs - Aunt Sam at Standard Crafts and Uncle Clayt at Daisy Air Rifle. An adjoining break room and thick coffee was what brought them together. It was love at first sight... well so to speak. He dated Aunt Sam for eight years before he married her, so in true Gillett fashion he was a bit slow on the draw, but when you know it’s right, it’s right.

Aunt Sam and I talked about the special connection she had with Uncle Clayt and how he will always be a part of her heart and soul. She told me what a good and kind-hearted person he truly was. Their love was as true as a love could be - soul mates.

In September of 1976, Lisa was born to complete the family. Together they have set a standard for family closeness. Their way of working together to build their lives was a model for all of society to live by. To Lisa, her Dad meant the world to her. He was her hero and he was always there whenever she needed him. She knew that with either his heart or his hands he would have the answers to show her the way. He forever was and always will express his unconditional love for you, Lisa. His memory now lives in your heart and whenever you are having troubles, know that he is right there with you helping you through them.

Uncle Clayt knew that he and Aunt Sam would have the rest of their lives together to play with his grandchildren and enjoy his life, until God determined that it was time to end his pain and call Uncle Clayt home.

Uncle Clayt was an active member of the Hespeler Model Aviators and was a licences radio pilot. As you may have seen on the photos on display, he loved his planes and flying. He had his dream plane in the basement and he couldn’t wait to finish it so it could take flight. So, if he wasn’t tinkering with cars and motors, airplanes were his thing. Uncle Clayt, you are flying now and seeing everything you ever dreamed flying would be.

Uncle Clayt was a very quiet man who kept mostly to himself, but when he has something to say, you listened. I remember fun times as a kid going to Uncle Clayt and Aunt Sam’s place for Halloween. Uncle Clayt was always watching out for us by eating all our "poisoned" candy when we returned from trick-or-treating. What a great guy!

Uncle Clayt, you are going to be sadly missed by all of the people you’ve ever come into contact with. Your family is going to feel this hole in their lives - this void - for a very long time. The impact you made in people’s lives will carry on in their memories. Aunt Sam, I cannot even imagine where one would begin to start over without the person you had planned to grow old and enjoy the nice retirement with, that you both so deserved. Please know that we are your family and we will all be here standing with you whenever you need us. We love you both.

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 glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's 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 cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

-Mary Frye, 1932
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