Tait, John
Tait, John
August 6, 1940 – May 4, 2024John Tait passed away peacefully on May 4 at Hospice Wellington in Guelph with family members by his side. He is predeceased by his parents, Lowis and Agnes Tait, his sister Eleanor Engelbert and his wife Rosemary Tait. He is survived by many nieces and nephews, and is remembered with particular fondness as a loving uncle by Brad Johnstone and Andrea Johnstone (John Shelley) and as a second father figure by great-nephew Jesse Johnstone (Carrie) and great-niece Elicia Vine.
John was born and grew up in Toronto where he enjoyed the perk of having a father who ran a bakery and delicatessen shop. After graduating from the Ontario Teachers’ College, John moved to Owen Sound where he taught English at the Owen Sound Collegiate and Vocational Institute.
While attending a summer course at Oxford University in England in 1973, he met his future wife Rosemary, and through Rosemary met Professor John Sullivan and his wife Barbara, whose family became close lifelong friends.
After retiring from teaching, John and Rosemary moved to Fergus, Ontario where they enjoyed the many arts and entertainment activities in the area.
Soft-spoken and humble, John was a kind, patient, and gentle person. He was always willing to listen and was a loyal, supportive friend to many. He appreciated life’s humour and laughed easily. He loved word play and took great delight in a clever pun or limerick.
One of John’s pleasures was travel and his fondest memory was taking a sabbatical to travel through Europe with Rosemary. John and Rosemary were very generous and often invited friends and family to join them on their trips.
John loved the arts, attending plays as often as possible and occasionally performing in little theatre productions. Each year he took full advantage of the Elora music festival, and he always had a book on the go.
In typical John fashion he has requested no formal service and no pomp and circumstance. There will be a celebration of life, with details yet to be planned. In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation to your local hospice.
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Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.Mary Elizabeth Frye
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