He made hearts -- and passed them along

William Allen CUMMER

March 7, 1944 – May 1, 2020

Allen gave his heart easily. Gave away hearts too. In his woodworking shop, he shaped palm-sized wooden hearts and sanded them smooth. 

He would place the heart in your hand and cup your hands in his. He would look into your eyes and say, “Here, take this, and when you hold it, remember that you are loved, unconditionally and beyond measure."

He would then tell you to give the wooden heart to someone else – and remind them that they were loved unconditionally and beyond measure.

How many did he make over the years?  How many did he give away?  Dozens?  Hundreds?  A thousand? He made wooden hearts.  Puzzle benches. Restaurant signs, Letter openers.  Jewelry boxes. Driftwood coffee tables.  Driftwood benches..

 And jokes.  Visual puns rendered as folk art: “Ones in a Blue Moon.”  “Gar-licked toes,”

“Porkas and Beings,”

All his life he had a creative drive.  He wrote short stories. He had a sharp eye for the detail that could make us visualize a scene.  He composed songs on the guitar.  

As a student he tried his hand at journalism and he was good at that too.  He was a salesman.  He talked easily to strangers. He was a missionary in France.  

But I remember well the day he came back to Calgary and announced his new career as a folk artist.  He had driven West as far as he could go.  Then he drove his van onto the ferry at Horseshoe Bay and went further west to the Sunshine Coast.  He came back across the Rockies to tell us about his new home and his new career. 

He had a new name too.  Our Calgary families — his mother’s family, the Irwins, and his father’s family, the Cummers — knew him as Allen.  Now he was Will – Will of the Woods.

And he gave each of us a wooden heart he had made. “Here,” he said, “take this, and when you hold it, remember that you are loved, unconditionally and beyond measure."

That’s how I want to remember him:  that deep, caring, spiritual side.  He had other sides – as we all know.  He was smart.  He knew he was smart.  And sometimes he was impatient with the rest of us.  And sometimes he was troubled about the way that the intelligence and creativity didn’t bring more recognition and riches. But he knew abundance when he saw it, and he lived his life abundantly. 

In the community that he chose to make his home – the Sunshine Coast – he certainly gained recognition and much love.

He met Jan at a flea market.  Her intelligence and creativity were well matched to his – and her kindness and patience helped him immensely.

I like the way Jan summed up Will in his obituary:  “In his gentleman mode,” she said, “Will liked poetry, stylish hats and giving and receiving hugs. In his guy mode, he liked football season, poker, Star Trek and Scotch.” 

 I would add:  he was a son,

a father,

a grandfather,

a partner, brother.  He was an artist, an entrepreneur,

a philosopher, a friend.

When a lifetime of breathing woodworking dust caught up with him, Will anticipated and prepared for his passing with a profound philosophical calm.  It was built upon his faith that this world represents a transition to something different. He had no fear of the mysteries yet to come.

And I think it’s because he really had faith in the power of love.  He put his heart into the wooden hearts he made.  He infused them.  And as a testament to that power, I think he would have loved what we are going to do next. 

I ask everyone, where we’re standing now, to take this heart and pass it along with Will’s invocation.  Don’t worry if you can’t remember the words.  We’re all here to help.

“Here.  Take this heart, and when you hold it, remember that you are loved, unconditionally and beyond measure."

(This eulogy was delivered on April 14, 2022, at a ceremony at the Union Cemetery in Calgary, Alberta, to inter the ashes of William Allen Cummer. The service was attended by his partner, Jan de Grass, and by members of both the Cummer and the Irwin families.)