Prairie Outpost

A website for the Prairie Outpost podcast as well as Dylon's writings

Remembering my Dad

Note: This statement was originally published on Facebook and Twitter on November 8, 2022.

Quite shortly after noon on Sunday, November 6th my dad died. This was the end of a nearly three-year battle with cancer that seemed to be won at the start of 2022 but came back severely mid-year.

I am very sad to see him gone, especially this early. The night before his body perished, he was playing Crazy Eights and beating me and his wife at the game. It is heartening that he got to have some enjoyment and mental stimulation right near to the very end.

While my dad’s life in this indifferent universe was made much, much shorter than we would have liked he managed to have a remarkably meaningful and impactful life in fifty-two years, affecting countless people for the better.

Image Caption: Picture of Dylon Martin as a child being held in the lap of his father, Norm Martin. Photo from the Martin family personal collection.

An off-reserve citizen of Barren Lands First Nation affected by the Sixties Scoop, he experienced deep intergenerational poverty living in the North End with his adoptive family. Despite these challenging early life circumstances, he managed to raise me as a single-father and secure opportunities for me that he could only dream of as a child. I will be grateful for this for the rest of my days. He also successfully led a labour drive at a glass factory, became an active community member in the Burrows neighbourhood, and in his later professional career was a champion for Truth and Reconciliation.

I know he loved me deeply and he said so often. I am very proud to be his son. I will never forget his generosity and ability to provide perspective and advice that was, more often than not, on the mark for the matter at hand. I sorely miss my dad.

Now begins the vast expanse of time after his finite life. I’m sad it ended so quickly, but take solace in knowing he’s not suffering.

To quote the old Epicurean epitaph: “I was not; I have been; I am not; I do not mind.”

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