The loss of an icon.

This past weekend my family, and the town of Penetanguishene, lost a great man.

My father's older brother, Henry Bisschop, passed away from cancer.

It was his third battle with the disease in the past five years, and each time he beat it, he couldn't come back as strong physically. But he always remained positive, even in his final days.

Henry was the type of man that everyone respected.
He was a straight shooter; always completely honest with anyone he came into contact with.
He was also a no-nonsense kind of man; very practical, and always productive. Even in his retirement he was extremely active in the community and with his family.
He was compassionate man who didn't discriminate or judge people.
He was a man of high morals and values.

He was the kind of man that had no enemies.

Henry was a teacher, a principal, a hockey coach and referee, a family man, a member of the church, a Mucker (the Mucker, in fact), a great story teller, and man that people loved to follow. And he was an amazing uncle who taught me many lessons as a child and as a man.


My dad was probably his closest sibling, and I know he's going to have many tough days ahead of him dealing with this loss. But my brother and I are very proud that our dad was able to give a heartfelt speech at his funeral. I really can't imagine how tough it must be, but I know it affects me too. I'm usually a rock with this kind of thing, but I've never lost someone this close before. I guess every rock will crack if you hit it in the right spot.

I could go on about how many people loved him, but the short list is as follows:


And that doesn't even scratch the surface of how many people's lives were touched by the man.

I can only hope that I'll have hundreds of friends and family members standing in line in the rain (because the funeral home was too full) just to pay their respects when I die.
I hope I'm able to raise my children as well as Henry did.
I hope I'm able to live my life with the same character that he always showed, even in the tough times.

Henry used to laugh that I never called him "Uncle Henry", it was always just "Henry". He used to say "I've got 45 year-old nephews that call me Uncle, but not Travis!"

Well I have to say Henry, I've never been anything but proud to be your nephew.
I hope you're resting peacefully now.