Kevin Frank Bird

It is with profound sadness that we announce the passing of Kevin Frank Bird on May 18th, 2026.

Kevin touched the lives of many with his kindness, humour, and unwavering spirit. As we remember and celebrate his life, we would like to share a few final words from Kevin himself…

Well, here we are. I’ve teed off on my final round, set down my tools for the last time, slung a guitar over my shoulder, and wandered off down a fairway that I hope never ends.

If you’re reading this it means I’ve left the workshop, the golf course and the familiar comforts of home behind, but not without taking the best parts with me.

I was, above all, a person shaped by the people I loved, including those I leave behind, Sister Deb and her husband Keith, and nieces Jessica and Amber. My family was my foundation, my pride, and my greatest joy, but none more so than my loving wife Robin, who stood beside me through everything. She was my partner in all things, my steady hand, my greatest comfort, and the love of my life. Every laugh we shared, every challenge we faced, every quiet moment together, every mile we travelled, those are the memories I carry most dearly.

I was also shaped by those who came before me, my father Ken and mother Jessie, and my brother Ken and sister Linda, who went on ahead. I like to think they’ve already found me, maybe waiting just beyond the clubhouse, ready to welcome me with familiar faces, a few good stories, and a song we all know the words to.

My friends, too, were part of that same fabric. You made life richer, lighter, and far more interesting than it had any right to be. Some of my favorite times were the simple ones like sitting around passing a guitar back and forth, missing a few chords, finding a few more, and not minding either way.

If you ever wondered where I’d gone, chances are I was on the road, windows down, map loosely followed (or not at all), chasing the next small town, scenic view, or roadside stop that just seemed worth it. There was always music along the way, sometimes on the radio, sometimes hummed under my breath, and sometimes played happily on a guitar at the end of the day. I loved the freedom of a good road trip, the kind where the journey mattered more than the destination, and the best memories came from the unexpected detours.

And if I wasn’t there, I was likely chasing a little white ball across a stretch of green, convinced this would finally be the round where everything clicked. (It rarely did, but that wasn’t really the point, was it?) Golf taught me patience, humility, and how to enjoy the walk as much as the score.

When I wasn’t on the road or the course, I was in the workshop, measuring twice, cutting once (or sometimes the other way around), shaping something with my hands. I like to think that in some small way, those pieces might stick around and keep me company with you.

And then there were the animals, every creature big or small. I never quite understood how anyone could pass one by without stopping to notice or play with it. They reminded me in their own simple ways how to be present, how to be kind, and how to live without overcomplicating things.

If I have any final request, it’s this - take your time. With each other and with the things you love. Don’t rush the round, don’t hurry the project, and don’t be afraid to take the long way home now and then.

Hold your loved ones close, especially the ones who walk beside you every day.

Laugh often, forgive quickly and if you can, keep a spot open for me, in a story, on a walk, out on the course, somewhere down the road, or in a song played a little too loud.

Although I’ve enjoyed many celebrations throughout my life, it is my final wish that there be no formal celebration of life. Please feel free to honour or remember me in whatever way feels right to you.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve got a tee time to make, and maybe a song to play along the way.

To plant a beautiful memorial tree in memory of Kevin Frank Bird, please visit our Tree Store.