How Life Can Change With A Single Phone Call.

On July 13, we got a call from Nana and Poppa with news that none of us wanted to hear.

They had just returned from Woodstock Hospital, where doctors had discovered that something was seriously wrong. An oncologist later told our family that the findings were likely consistent with prostate cancer, and Poppa was referred for additional testing.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still.

Like so many families faced with unexpected medical news, we clung to hope. We hoped the doctors were wrong. We hoped the tests would bring better answers. We hoped that whatever was happening had been caught early and could be treated.

Today, those hopes were met with heartbreaking reality.

The results confirmed that my grandfather, Augustine “Poppa” Kent, has advanced metastatic prostate cancer. The cancer has spread, and our family is now beginning one of the most difficult journeys we have ever faced.

There are moments in life that divide everything into before and after.

That diagnosis changed everything.

For 31 years, I have had the incredible privilege of calling Augustine Kent my Poppa.

To many people, he is a husband, a father, a proud Poppa, a brother, an uncle or a friend.

To me, he is one of the greatest men I have ever known.

He is the quiet strength of our family. The steady presence who never asked for recognition. The man who showed his love not through grand speeches, but through a lifetime of hard work, unwavering faith and countless acts of kindness.

Born on Bell Island, Newfoundland, the fifth of eleven children, Poppa learned early in life that family, faith and perseverance were everything. Those values stayed with him throughout his entire life.

After moving to Ontario, he met my Nana, Margaret, the love of his life. Together, they have spent more than sixty-two years building a life rooted in faith, love and service. They raised three wonderful children, welcomed nine grandchildren, opened their home to others, served their church and built a legacy that reaches far beyond bricks and mortar.

Poppa was a gifted craftsman who built homes for our family and for many others throughout Southwestern Ontario. Yet the greatest thing he ever built wasn’t a house.

It was his family.

His children.

His grandchildren.

The values he passed on.

The lives he shaped simply by the example he set every single day.

When I think about Poppa, I don’t think about one defining moment.

I think about hundreds of little ones.

Installing election signs together.

Going for walks through the bush.

Sunday mornings in church.

Listening to his stories.

Watching the quiet way he treated every person with kindness and respect.

Those moments felt ordinary at the time.

Today, they feel priceless.

As I’ve watched him over the past three weeks, I’ve found myself reflecting on just how much of the person I am today was shaped by him. His patience. His generosity. His unwavering faith. His belief that no matter what life throws at you, you keep going, trust God and continue loving the people around you.

Cancer has a way of reminding us how fragile life really is.

For our family, this isn’t our first experience with profound loss.

We have watched my great-grandparents pass away. We have mourned Poppa’s brothers and sisters whose lives were taken by cancer, heart disease and tragic accidents. We have experienced the unimaginable heartbreak of losing my youngest brother, who lived for only three precious days.

Every one of those losses has left its mark.

Grief changes you.

It changes how you celebrate birthdays and holidays.

It changes how tightly you hug the people you love.

It changes how you answer a late-night phone call.

It reminds you that tomorrow is never promised.

Each loss teaches you to cherish every moment, but none of those lessons ever makes the next goodbye easier.

That is why this diagnosis has shaken our family so deeply.

It strips away the distractions that consume so much of our time and forces us to focus on what truly matters.

Love.

Family.

Faith.

Time.

Not the time we wish we had.

The time we have right now.

Over the past few days, our family has cried together. We’ve hugged a little tighter. We’ve shared stories. We’ve laughed through tears because that’s what families do. We are determined to cherish every conversation, every smile and every precious moment we still have with Poppa.

If there is one thing this experience has already taught me, it is this.

Every single day is a gift.

We often move through life believing we have more time. More time for another visit. More time for another conversation. More time to say the things we should have said today.

But none of us knows the hour of God’s return, nor do we know the moment when we will take our final breath. Life is precious because it is not guaranteed.

That uncertainty is not something we face with fear, but with faith.

We have faith that God has a plan for Poppa. We have faith that every moment we are blessed to spend with him is a gift. And we have faith that when his time on this earth is complete, he will be reunited with all of those we have loved and lost before him.

We believe that he will one day hopefully in the distant future hear the words every faithful servant hopes to hear:

“​​Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

Until that day comes, we will cherish every moment we are given.

We will hold onto every conversation.

We will treasure every laugh.

We will celebrate the incredible life Poppa has lived and the impact he has had on everyone fortunate enough to know him.

Because while cancer may change the days ahead, it can never take away the love, faith and memories that Poppa has given our family.

To everyone who has reached out with prayers, messages, hugs and words of encouragement, thank you. Your support has reminded us that we are not facing this journey alone.

There is one more group of people I want to recognize.

To the incredible doctors, nurses and healthcare staff at Woodstock Hospital, thank you.

Over the past few weeks, you have cared for Poppa and our family with extraordinary compassion, kindness and dignity. You answered our questions with patience, delivered heartbreaking news with empathy and treated every member of our family with genuine care and respect.

While this diagnosis has been devastating, your kindness has brought comfort during one of the hardest chapters of our lives. You reminded us that healthcare is about more than medicine. It is about compassion, humanity and walking alongside families when they need it most.

Our family will never forget the care you have shown Poppa or the love you have shown all of us.

Today, I have one simple request.

Please keep my Poppa in your thoughts and prayers.

Pray that he is surrounded by peace, strength and comfort in the difficult days ahead.

Pray for my Nana Margaret, whose unwavering love has been his constant companion for more than six decades.

Pray for my mom, my uncles, my cousins and our entire family as we walk this road together.

And if prayer isn’t part of your life, I simply ask that you think of him. Reach out with a kind message. Tell someone you love them. Honour Poppa by showing the kindness, compassion and generosity that have defined his entire life.

We don’t know exactly what the coming weeks or months will bring.

But we do know this.

Every conversation will matter.

Every visit will matter.

Every “I love you” will matter.

Every prayer will matter.

We cannot choose how many days we are given, but we can choose how we spend them. As a family, we intend to spend every one we have left loving Poppa with everything we’ve got.

My Poppa has spent his life loving others without ever asking for anything in return. He has built a legacy of faith, kindness, humility and unconditional love that will continue to live on in all of us, no matter what the future holds.

Please keep Augustine “Poppa” Kent, my Nana Margaret and our entire family in your thoughts and prayers.

We will cherish every moment we are blessed to have together.

We love you, Poppa.

More than words will ever be able to express.