Obituary of Sheldon Paul Rafuse

That New Ross fellar, Sheldon Rafuse, was born under a waning gibbous moon on November 23, 1926 to Ira and Beulah Rafuse, back on the Mill Road. He died on September 3, 2020 at the age of 93. A great, luminous Corn Moon hung in the sky that night, likely watching as he spirited away from here.

Sheldon was a man who took notice of the phases of the moon. He was well acquainted with the Farmers’ Almanac, and all things relating to the world of nature. He was a skilled woodsman and was on the roam for outdoor adventure his whole life. He loved hunting, fishing, and time at the “camp.” There’s plenty of tales about Sheldon out there in the woods with one crew or another, featuring end of the day dancing, drinking, headstand high jinks, other goings on and such. A few of those stories are likely true enough.

More than once, Sheldon went moose hunting in Newfoundland, and salmon fished all over. He travelled as far as the Grand Canyon to have a look. Still, many folks will say he was just as content to take a walk up over the hill on his own property. You could see him up there often enough, even in winter: moving at a good clip too, hands ungloved, coat unfastened, always in a hurry. In early spring he’d be in search of the first mayflowers to scoop up and carry home to his bride. Summer was about berry picking and the garden up there; fall brought the show of turning leaves.

Well now, from an early age, Sheldon was called upon to work hard, too hard for a boy, people might say, but he was agile, strong, determined and brave. He wasn’t one of those young people you might consider “no good for nothing”. He was serious at whatever job he was doing. Sheldon worked at Camp Aldershot during WWII and in the pulp woods, both for himself and for others. For a number of years, he was a grocery butcher, and later, head custodian at the local school. But he was happiest when working for himself, free to work at his own brisk pace and to make time for his outdoor hobbies.

His formal education ended around sixth grade, but later in life, Sheldon returned to his studies and achieved his high school GED. He was an avid reader and creative craftsman. At one time, way back, he was a cooper and made barrels; he made willow rod baskets and Christmas wreaths. He put the smaller wreaths up for sale, but the biggest one was always up on the front of his house, lights and all. Sheldon tinkered and cobbled together a great many inventions in his time. There’s a freezer transformed for beer making that might still be down in that cellar of his; it was a real “Harl Rafuse outfit.”

Now, Sheldon wasn’t one to go running around buying the right tools for every job. He made do, and things turned out mostly. He was just that sort of “mul-ty talented fellar.” It could be said that he was a man hesitant to do a thing any other way but his own. Well, he did store up some very informed wisdom over his years to go with whatever advice he was handing out. But sometimes, it’s true, he forgot to listen. He could take umbrage when it wasn’t called for and be quite argy-bargy just to line up a day’s entertainment. It needs to be added here, mind, that he’ll be remembered just as rightly as the kind, playful and generous man he was.

Sheldon loved toys and gadgets and gizmos and good music. Anne Murray ballads were popular, old timey jigs and any modern tunes that inspired a dance. The Sheldon Shuffle originated with him, and he could pretty much step into any genre of music with that one, especially if Dry Ice was on offer.

He was a man who was careful about the environment long before the need started trending. Once it did, Sheldon proudly provided his pesticide-free trees to the Ecology Action Center in Halifax for many years. Oh, he hated driving in the city, but loved meeting with its people, was passionate about his trees and very agreeable to having an audience. He was a natural storyteller, a showman and a bit of a show-off. Sheldon was still wielding that chainsaw of his when he was well into his 80s, and still executing that headstand trick, truth be told.

Well now, you can’t really know the man without hearing about Sheldon’s most enduring love . . . for his wife of 67 years, his sweetheart and friend, Joyce Eleanor Rafuse (Leopold). Together they raised 10 children. There are stories a plenty with those kids, but that will have wait for a time down the road. Needs to be said, however, that he loved Joyce (or Mum as he started calling her along the way) in a forever kind of way, and every one of those children too. He wanted the world to be a kinder place than he knew it to be. He worried for them, and sometimes he wore that worry like an old sweater that might get turned inside out to hide the streaks. But then, as happens, only the anger and impatience are seen when a fellar does that.

As his worries lessened, Sheldon became a more easy-going sort of man. He’d get together with bunches of his children and their children and tell stories, maybe have a few beers. The music would get turned on in that garage next door and then a party would break out. His grandkids loved those late-night pajama dances and heard a lot of old-time songs by the end of that era.

Well now, Sheldon’s story took a sad turn on June 17, 2016, when he lost his darling Joyce. It turned out that many of his memories were lost with her. They had already faded some, and she had been holding them in place, so to speak. After that, he did a lot of veranda sitting with his son, “Big Guy” Graeme, who had one of those little TV or camera kind of gizmos that could tell you where those planes rushing across the sky were actually headed . . .

Whoa, whoa, whoooooa . . . hold up, no need to hurry off just yet . . .there’s a few brews in the corner; there’s enough “Peeza” right there in that box to “feed a family of four.”

Well now, there’s plenty more good stories about that fellar Sheldon, happier ones, like how he acquired that famous jacket of his, direct from the Ford Motor Company. That man’s porch walls were covered with hats, and each one brings on a story or two. There are quite a few Toyotee trucks could be talked about – all of them, “four-wheel drive and fully automatic.”

The camp cook favorite might not be so well known in these parts, or it might have been told a time or two . . . “I ain’t the cook, or the cook’s son, but I’ll be the cook till the cook comes.”

Sheldon is by survived by his older sister, Elaine Corbin and his children: Chris (Dan), Michael (Virginia), Lana (David), Jan (Rod), Carla (Michael), Kevin (Cathy), Kelly (Larry), Byron, and Tyler, his grandchildren: Jael, Aidan, Rowan, Daniel, Min, Adam, Kristian, Simon, Katie, Robyn, Amber, Parker, Brett, Spencer, Patrice, Nicola, Lucy, Kalee, Matthew and Melissa, and great grandchildren: Jett, Declan, Briar, Mia, Willow, Chase and Louie.

Sheldon was predeceased by his wife, Joyce Rafuse, his daughter-in-law, Suellen Murray, his son, Graeme Trent Rafuse, his parents: Ira and Beulah Rafuse and siblings: Delphine, Rose, Dean, Lynn and Bonnie and Bruce.

Arrangements to celebrate Sheldon’s life have been postponed and will be announced at a later date. In lieu of flowers, please consider memorial donations to Shoreham Village, the Nova Scotia Salmon Association, or the Canadian Lyme Disease Foundation. Arrangements have been entrusted to Serenity Funeral Home New Ross Funeral Chapel, 4935 Hwy #12, New Ross, B0J 2M0 (902-689-2961).