Obituary of Brian Bartlett Shea

BRIAN - BART - SHEA, 1947-2011 - Gentleman is not a word we hear a lot nowadays. Sadly, the species seems endangered. Bart Shea was a gentleman in every best sense of the word. He was also a gentle man. A gentleman because he was always kind, generous, interested in the other, and because he held himself to a set of principles that he never betrayed. He didn't trumpet these core beliefs, he just lived by them. You had to know him for a while to learn this about him, and we were very lucky, those of us who knew him for a long time. His sweet smile was the most reliable thing about him. There never was a better smile. Open, unforced, genuine and true to the heart of him. Bart's default position was a happy one. He loved his life, his family, his friends, and was always true to his passions. He was smart, but showed this without vanity. He was very good at what he did, but never one to brag about it. All of these things are the true mark of a gentleman. A gentle man because he wanted life to be a kind and happy place. For one so sure what he believed, and so convinced that these beliefs were correct, he was never quick to criticize, and always willing to give the other the benefit of the doubt. If he did need to tell you that he thought you were on the wrong road, he did so with a quiet voice. He would leave you room to consider his thoughts, and make you know that this disagreement was not going to cost a friendship. Bart was easy to keep as a friend, because he was forgiving, and always ready to laugh at the foolishness we humans get up to. I loved to watch Bart work in his shop. He held himself to a high standard of craftsmanship, and produced wonderful things. He would puzzle over a problem, chastise himself for mistakes I couldn't even see, and yet, the smile was always there, even if he was throwing a piece away after working on it for hours. "Good enough" wasn't something you heard Bart say. Perhaps he'd be making something for Francine. Was there ever a better match than Fran and Bart? I've never seen it. Fran the sparkplug, Bart the cast iron engine block that kept the explosions under control. Together, they made a powerful engine. In all the years I knew him, I never heard anything but love and admiration from Bart concerning Fran. It was reciprocal. How many lobster feasts did we share? How many times did Fran and Bart lavish their friends, and the occasional stray, with their extravagant generosity? Theirs was the only table I ever sat at that had too many lobsters on it. Leftovers at a lobster feed? That's a Shea concept. But it says a lot about them. Abundant love is easy to share, and theirs was an abundant love. Are there words of comfort we can offer to Fran, and to Brian and Liam? Words seem paltry things. Better to offer love. Abundant. Bart fell in love with schooners. When Bart decided he'd like a boat of his own, he built one. Just like that. Whittled a half model, one he figured he could build, and built the boat. Turned out he had a gift for planking, he told me once. He found it easy. There was no vainglory in this statement. He was just remarking about how it all went. As all of us know, the little schooner was a great success. Fast, able and always beautifully sailed. Bart had a quiet hand at the helm, and a gift for racing tactics. He loved the schooner association, and no one ever worked harder to make the races fair, to give every boat a chance to win. And that's the man to a "T". He wanted life to be fair, for everyone to have a chance. He was willing to give long hours of his time to try to make this true. He asked nothing in return. When Bart got the brutal diagnosis of cancer, when he knew his days were numbered, he faced it with grace and courage and with great dignity. He was sick a long time before I even knew how bad it was. He didn't want to worry people, to impose his hardships on others. But finally, all of us knew, and those of us who had a chance to talk to him about it were amazed. He was very matter of fact, completely free of self pity. He told me one day that he'd gone through all the stages they talk about, denial, anger, grief, but he'd done it in a few days. He didn't have much time, and he wanted to spend that time as himself. He wanted to continue to sail, to cherish his family and friends, to smile at life, and so he did. Bart Shea's deportment as he faced the end of life was majestic proof of all the goodness we saw in him through the years. Bart called his schooner "Cheers". How like the man, that name. Unpretentious, positive, optimistic, with just enough dash and friendly to all. A universal toast, one we say when we can't think of anything else. We've all raised a glass and said the word a thousand times, without much thought, but still, with a smile. For me, this cheerful little toast has forever changed. Now, when I raise a glass and say "Cheers", it will be with a full heart, thankful for such a friend, and profoundly touched by his absence. Now, when I say "Cheers", it will be with abundant love for Bart Shea. Written by Tom Gallant. Bart ( the second youngest of seven ) is survived by his wife Francine, Stonehurst, sons Brian, Dartmouth and Liam, Middle La Have , sister Myra (Bart Ebbinge), Pictou , brothers Alvin (Marguerite), Pictou and Vern (Pat) Pictou¦ AND His dedicated crew, who he loved dearly for sailing Cheers for the last three years. Paul Williams, son Brian, Val Doan, Diana Moser, Howard Ray, brother Vern, nephew Bart - #2쳌 Shea and of course sailor extraordinaire Mike Gray. There will be no visitation or service. It was Bart?¢s wish that friends and family come together next summer for a - little do쳌; details at a later date. Donations may be made to Dr. David Abriel and the Palliative Care Fund South Shore Regional. Arrangements are under the care and direction of Serenity Lindsay Funeral Home and Crematorium, 568 Main Street, Wolfville, Nova Scotia B4P 1E7. Condolences and donations may be sent to the above address or by visiting: www.serenitylindsayfuneralhome.ca