Saturday, September 7, 2024
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Simon Sulliman was known to everyone around him as Buddy. While it is a common nickname Cape Breton, there was only ONE Buddy.
Dad left school at 17 before he was able to graduate after his father died so he could work and look after his mother, missing out on opportunities play university football that he was being scouted for.
He was never afraid of hard work. For most of his work life he worked He worked for NSpower as a linesman, a crew lead and finally as a safety coordinator.
When the power went out during winter storms he was the one climbing poles to reconnect everyone.
Of course the big perk for his kids was that they got rides in the bucket when he was on call.
Sports, especially hockey, was his passion. And he always stayed a true Chicago Blackhawk’s fan.
He taught us kids how to skate on a back yard rink behind our house that he flooded every winter’s night after a long day at work. We, along with kids round the neighbourhood would skate all day, coming inside only to eat in the back porch so we didn’t have to take our skates off.
As a boy, dad traveled in the summers throughout the Maritimes and New England with his dad who ran a photo booth with the Bill Lynch Shows. He was a “carnie” at heart.
We’re sure that is where he got his wanderlust.
It might have even been the training ground for his ability to engage with strangers and make them feel like they were friends.
He loved to travel, whether it was a good road trip, plane ride or a cruise. He loved exploring new places and meeting new friends.
He was friends with everyone he met and he enjoyed helping others.
He loved his nieces and nephews as much as they loved “Uncle Buddy”. He was tour guide for every visit and he made the best French fries on the camp stove in the back yard.
We were excited for his solo “backpacking around Europe” adventures that had when he was in his seventies when he went to visit his good friend in Belgium. Those adventures gave him a whole new set of stories to share.
We have been sharing lots of dad stories the past few months. Way too many to share here.
Dad was perfectly imperfect. AND he was our North Star - the thing by which you orient yourself.
He loved his children fiercely. He loved Paul and John like sons and Heather like a daughter.
While he was a good dad, he was an even better grandad and an exceptional Greatgrampie. We always joked that we were practice and they were the main event.
He always showed up for his grandchildren and was proud of their accomplishments and loved their spouses and partners.
He not only showed up for every concert, hockey game, judo tournament, baseball game and dance recital - he also cheered the loudest and was the proudest.
He pulled a wagon loaded with kids to so many duck ponds to feed the ducks that he knew the ducks by name.
All the grandkids and great grandkids friends and families only knew him as Grampie. So did all our family pets who he babysat as much the grandkids.
One of his best life experiences was when at 77 he went “back to work” in Fort Mac for a couple of years. He was everyone’s buddy and Grampie there too.
He loved his all his grandchildren with his whole heart and lives in their hearts forever.
He had a BIG heart.
He was just as stubborn and hard headed as he was kind and generous.
Dad lived up to his name.
He loved big, he lived big and to his family he was bigger than life.
We will miss him forever.
And always remember, “No Onions.”
