Having lived in Fernie most of my life I have come to know a lot of people. Many that are of my parents’ generation have been steadily passing away and that makes for nostalgic moments of remembering who they were and what they contributed to their families and to the town.
One of those individuals was a man that didn’t have a high profile but was none the less well known to many.

His name was Matthew Diakow: Matt or Metro as he was known was born in 1927 and passed away this past June 21. Born on the family farm in Saskatchewan he moved to Fernie in 1969 with his wife Kay and children Debra and Darcy. He worked at the Fernie Motor Inn, The Elko Mill and School District #5. He loved having coffee with friends at A&W, loved to go huckleberry picking and taking trips with Darcy to get firewood. His children say that he loved taking friends for a drive to Blairmore to get a haircut and have lunch together. He also enjoyed taking his grandchildren Braden and Bridgitte fishing at the rivers and lakes close by.

Matt lived a quiet ordinary life; he worked hard and enjoyed the simple pleasures of family and friends. His family remembers him as one who “never gave up”. He was strong, courageous and loving even while battling a long illness.

At his funeral service his grand-daughter delivered a tribute to Matt that really touched me. I would like to quote some of what she said. “My relationship with my grandfather was a special one. I lived with him for 15 years,( her father passed away when she was a child) he and Uncle Darcy were my male role models. He took me for ice cream, built me a sandbox and he is the one I gave Father’s Day cards to. My granddad took a lot of pride in Fernie; whenever relatives came to visit he took them on a tour of all the sights this area has to offer. He was very popular when he bartended at the Motor Inn, many have commented on that, his personality was contagious, you just wanted to be around him because he had this laugh and humour that made you want more. At Isabella Dicken School I always volunteered to take chalk brushes from the classroom to the custodian’s room because I knew I would see my grandfather. I can still hear his laugh coming down the hallway as I got near. I would pick raspberries in the backyard with him, once when we were fishing my hook caught onto his hat, he laughed his loud laugh and I couldn’t help but laugh along with him. My grandfather wasn’t the perfect man with a perfect life. No one on this earth is a perfect person or doesn’t hit obstacles, he had faults and battled alcoholism, but he overcame it. This made him a stronger wiser person. My mother went to the extreme caring for him in his last years, she chose to “honor thy father” fighting for his well-being to the end. I can only hope that in my old age one of my children will have the heart to fight for me like that. Grief comes in stages, we can be selfish and wish for more time. I am happy that I was able to grow along his path, my grandfather brought out the best in me and I will never forget it. Traits, hobbies and values he taught me I will pass down to my children.

Matt is one of those many people I got to know a little over the years not really close but enough so that I got to like him and what he represented. Every life is a story. Some of those stories are filled with great accomplishments that the world gets to hear about, some are filled with a great deal of activity and self- satisfaction for individual performance personally and for their surroundings.
Matt’s life is like most of ours, we work, we love, we care for our spouses and children, extended families and friends and we do it quietly, honourably and with great love and sometimes a lot of pain. In doing that we leave a legacy of values that touches those we leave behind. And in the grand scheme of things it’s this personal legacy that is the most important one of all.