Obituary of Milton Ponto

PONTO ~ Milton Ponto passed away on July 13, 2012 in the Lloydminster Hospital, Lloydminster, Saskatchewan, at the age of 89 years. Milton is missed by his wife, Dorothy, his children: Sharon Ponto, Barry (Lois) Ponto, Gwen (Ken) Tonin, and Colleen (Don) Williams, six grandchildren: Jacquie (Dustin) Batho, Zach (Katrina) Ponto, Jennifer Reardon, Sheldon (Toni) Ponto, Jessica (Kurt) Ponto, and Kallum Williams, two great grandchildren: Katelynn Reardon and Linden Ponto, one sister, Ada (Robert) Polinsky and one brother, Ben (Elsie) Ponto. He was predeceased by his parents, Ferdinand and Pauline Ponto, three brothers and one sister. Milton was born on a farm near Maidstone, Saskatchewan on June 14, 1923. When he was four years old his family moved the Walter School District, north of Waseca, Saskatchewan. He attended Walter School and worked on the family farm. During the winter of 1942-1943, Milton worked at the city airport in Edmonton, Alberta. In 1944 he rented a quarter section of land from Mr. A. Koller. Again in the winter of 1945-1946 Milton traveled to Edmonton, where he attended the Chicago Vocational Training School. Milton enrolled in a course on mechanics and electricity. He returned to farming in the spring. The fall of 1947 found Milton and his brother, Ken on a bus bound for Toronto, where they found employment with the Massey Harris Company. By spring they were eager to return to the farm. In 1948, Milton purchased the E27-48-24W3 from Mr. A. Koller. Milton met Dorothy Shingler, who was substitute teaching at Walter School in 1951 and they were married on December 31, 1951 at Westlock, Alberta. They purchased a small house for six hundred dollars in 1952 and moved it to the present farm site. In 1953, Sharon was born, followed by Barry in 1954, Gwen in 1956, and Colleen in 1962. Milton acquired more land and continued farming until his eighties. He and Dorothy remained on the farm until the fall of 2011, when they moved to Lloydminster, Saskatchewan. He continued to spend as much time at the farm as possible as that is where he was the happiest. Eulogy by Colleen: I cannot find the words. My thoughts are too jumbled. The tears will not stop. I miss Dad. But when I close my eyes, I see Dad sitting quietly in his favorite chair, outside at the farm. He is watching the clouds drift by, listening as the breeze whispers through his trees. His birds are singing happily. Somewhere a squirrel is chattering and on the lawn, a bunny chews lazily on a dandelion. Dad is dressed in his favorite clothes: work pants, plaid shirt, suspenders, floppy hat and rubber boots. An orange cat is curled on his lap and a shaggy sheepdog lies sprawled at his feet. Dad is smiling and happy, content and at peace. He is home. Memories mixed together, perhaps, but in my heart, so very real. This is the vision that gives me the strength to do this. This is how I see my Dad. Dad loved everything about nature and the farm. In his younger years he tried the city life of Edmonton and Toronto, but the hustle and bustle and bright lights could not compete with the allure of golden wheat fields, dirt under his nails, itchy barley dust, endless skies and starry nights. Add to this a wife and four children and his path was set. He was a complex man who chose a simpler life. A life of hard work and more hard work. A life that allowed him the opportunity to enjoy nature. A life that allowed him to spend time with the family he loved. Dad loved spending time with us. Summer afternoons at Birch Lake with good friends were made complete with a weiner roast and marshmallows. When I think about it, roasting marshmallows with Dad was a lesson in patience. A ball of flame on a stick was not acceptable. A marshmallow worthy of Dad had to be roasted over low coals and turned ever so slowly until it was golden brown and drooped so much it threatened to fall off the stick. Desserts were always fun. When mom made one that Dad particularly liked, he would buy it from us. A nickel, a dime or sometimes a quarter, it depended on how much he liked the dessert or how many he had to buy. Sometimes even bidding wars occurred. Maple buds, shared with Boo, were always a favorite and in more recent years, brandy beans at Christmas. We all remember Sunday drives with Dad. He was always in search of new roads and sights. These Sunday drives should have been called "Destination to Nowhere", for that is where we usually ended up, nowhere! Many a picnic lunch was eaten in community pastures, approaches and at dead end roads. Once, the road ended at a bridge crossing. The problem, the bridge was not built yet. There must have been a sign somewhere, don't you think? Dad enjoyed playing the guitar and harmonica. In the winter there would often be impromptu jam sessions in the basement with family and friends. Often, Dad would play the old country and gospel songs and we would sing along. These are wonderful memories. We were possibly the original "Name That Tune", as Dad would play a few notes and we would try to guess the song. We kept him busy, driving us to ball, Boy Scouts, curling, skating and 4-H. Gwen recalls the times he moved her, and as she says, "I moved a lot". When we gave him a moment to himself he loved to read and do crossword puzzles. Dad loved to play games. Crokinole, horseshoes, darts, his own tough version of X's and O's (which only Barry could beat him at on a regular basis) and cards. Playing cards was a passion for Dad. Oh, how the man enjoyed his cards. He loved it so much he invented his own game, "Holy Moly". I think we all despised the game, but he loved it and usually won. A few weeks ago Dad and I were playing a game. It was a struggle for him and he was tired. I asked him if he wanted to rest, we could finish later. He replied, "No. We will play until you beat me." We finished the game. I won, but my heart broke that day. It was the last game of cards I played with my Dad. As we grew older and drifted off doing our own things, the games grew fewer and Sunday drives seldom. Barry was by now farming, much to Dad's delight and so he had more free time for gardening and tending to his yard. More time to enjoy his birds, and deer and moose and weasels, and even the bear that stopped by to say hello. And he had more time to explore. So, what did he do? He bought a truck and camper and took to the road. The biggest decision came, when stopped at the end of the driveway he would say, "East or West Mother?" Dad had a map and he would mark off every road they traveled. In Saskatchewan you would be hard pressed to find a highway, grid road or often a trail he had not driven. Many times he had to draw in the roads as they did not exist on the map. They put a large dent into Alberta, Manitoba, and British Columbia too. They were north to Yellowknife, west to the coast, south through the northern states and east to Toronto. Dad and mom took a memorable trip to Disneyland with Sharon and Jacquie about thirty years ago. That was the farthest he ventured from Canada. He was content just to explore his own backyard. Perhaps it was these road trips that sparked his keen interest in community history. He worked tirelessly to help complete the Waseca History book and then ran with the concept and collected and read history books from all over the western provinces, especially Saskatchewan and Alberta. In time grandchildren began to arrive and Dad thrived on them. He loved to follow along to hockey, ringette, figure skating and soccer. He had a whole new captive audience to tell the exploits of his youth to. A new generation to instill his wisdom upon. In return, they all adored their Grandpa. To go for a drive or just to follow him around the yard was special. They listened to his stories and laughed at his jokes. Dad anticipated summer visits from those too far away to see often, and was saddened when they ended far too soon. Your Grandpa was so very proud of each of you and the adults you have become. He loved you all deeply. Hold him close to your hearts. Dad's two great grandchildren were the apples of his eye and completed him. Katelynn walked his trails with him, played hide and seek and told him her stories. Shortly before Dad entered the hospital, Linden came for a visit and just seeing him brought a sparkle to Great Grandpa's eyes that we had not seen in awhile. The morning Dad passed away, Linden, sitting on Sheldon's lap, plopped his feet on the table. A memory of Dad sitting at the kitchen table, leg casually draped over the corner flashed in my mind and I smiled. Way to go Linden! Besides with us, Dad shared many cherished relationships with nieces, nephews, and friends. Whether it was a special occasion, an evening of cards or a coffee at the mall, he spent many wonderful and happy times in your company. Dad enjoyed making people laugh and smile. He kept us entertained with his corny, sometimes off-colored jokes. He could pull coins from your ears and chew string together. His pop bottle water canon provided hours of entertainment for young and old, as did his infamous fart machine. Yes, 89 years seems far too short for a man we thought would live forever, but Dad lived a full and rich life. How do I know this? He told me so. As his health was failing, he told me that it was all right, that he had no regrets, that he was content. He had lived his life doing what he loved to do and was successful. He had the opportunity to watch his children and grandchildren grow into strong, independent individuals who had created their own paths. He said to watch over mom and that he loved us all. As you leave here today, I ask that you close your eyes for just a moment and find your special memory of Dad and smile. For truly all he really wanted for any of us was to be happy. We miss you and love you Dad. And more...we remember! As were his wishes, a family service was held for Milton at the Lloydminster Cemetery on July 17, 2012. Dale Brook officiated the service. The pallbearers were his grandchildren and nephew, Gary Polinsky. Hymns played were How Great Thou Art and The Old Rugged Cross. Milton's family would like to thank Dale Brook for her kind words and comforting service. McCaw Funeral Service, especially Dean Wenzel for his great help and guidance. Home Care and the nurses on the 3rd floor of the Lloydminster Hospital for their kindness and caring. Murray McFadyen for providing the lovely lunch and everyone who called, brought food, offered condolences and sent cards and flowers. Your thoughtfulness is greatly appreciated. Dorothy & Family Donations can be made to the Lloydminster Health Foundation or Charity of Choice.