It is with sadness the family announces the passing of Mr. John Cadrin with family by his side on Saturday, April 11, 2026 at the age of 88 years.

A Funeral Mass will take place on Thursday, April 23, 2026 at 2:00 p.m. held at St. Joseph Calasanctius Roman Catholic Church.

Memorial donations in memory of John can be directed to The War Amps https://donate.waramps.ca/eforms.aspx?edonate

Condolences for the family can be made at www.eternalmemoriesfuneral.ca Funeral arrangements have been entrusted to Eternal Memories Funeral Service & Crematorium – Trevor Watts Funeral Director.

Eulogy

Today we celebrate the life of John Mark Cadrin – a husband, father, grandfather, brother, uncle, friend and neighbor.  He was the youngest of 13 children and was born on June 8th, 1937 in Edam. His parents were Eugene and Alphonsine Cadrin.

Dad’s schooling required him to be away from home.  He lived with his aunt in North Battleford for his younger years and then moved to Battleford where he lived in the Convent.  He talked of the cattle drives that Pepere would do to Sweetgrass reserve, and how he and the other kids would sit on top of the convent and watch them in the distance.  At those times Pepere would stop by and drop off a bag of peppermints for dad, and he would tell the nuns to not take Dad out of class.

Dad was sent to the college in Edmonton to complete his high school.  Dad said that his mom was trying to make a priest out of him, and with a grin on his face he’d say, “That wasn’t going to happen.”  Dad said that he completed his high school with recommendations – he was recommended to leave before he got kicked out.

When he moved home his father put him to work. He spent his first winter at the ranch living with Armand and Pauline Cadrin, and their son.  Dad talked of sleeping in the loft of the ranch house and how it was so cold that the cow hide that covered him was frozen with frost.

The day before his 16th birthday, Pèpere said that Dad could smoke in front of him when he turned 16.  So, on his 16th birthday at break time, Dad pulled out his cigarettes and had a smoke.  The next day Dad pulled out his cigarettes again. Pere asked him what he was doing.  Dad replied, “You said that I could smoke when I turned 16.” Pèpere said, “That’s right, that was yesterday.”  Dad said that was his lesson to listen closely to what is being said.

Dad wanted to buy a truck and asked Pèpere to lend him some money.  His father’s response was that trucks were a waste of money, so Dad asked Uncle Frank, who lent him the money.  One day Père asked Dad where his keys were to the truck and Dad said, “In my pocket where they are going to stay.”  Dad’s next comment was “Needless to say, I was told to leave.”  He then lived with his siblings, and moved around, working for them.  Since Dad was close in age to his nephews and nieces, this allowed him to get to know them better.

Dad had many interesting jobs including spending a winter in Edson where they moved the houses around to form streets.

Dad’s mom died when he was 20 years old. He was very close to her and often said that Auntie Terry reminded him the most of Gramma.

The following year after his mom’s death, Dad went up to the Meadow Lake area to go hunting.  He often said that he went looking for a 4-legged deer and came home with a 2-legged d-e-a-r. Driving north to see Mom was not realistic so the relationship ended. Then her family moved to the 13-mile corner to run the garage and restaurant.  Mom and  Dad ran into each other in North Battleford.  She asked Dad to swing by and help Grandpa Scott get introduced to the community.  She had her own motive.  Grandpa Scott later told Dad he had never asked Dad to do this.

Mom and Dad were married on April 11th, 1959.  They lived with Pepere at the family farm for a short while and then moved to Meota.  They moved back to the farm when Jo-Anne was a baby and stayed there until 1994.  Dad once said that he could never have done what he did with farming, if it wasn’t for Mom.  He appreciated and respected all that she juggled and did with us kids, and at home.  When Mom was alive, she loved looking at the clouds. When she died, Dad didn’t talk about it much, but would say on days when the clouds were pretty, “Oh, look, it’s your mother.”

Dad always liked Meota.

He loved to be involved in the community wherever he could.  Driving Santa around on the ski-doo, calling bingo at the hall or sports day, or serving on the local school board.   We remember going to town on Sundays where he was the announcer at the stock car races.

Sundays were spent with family whenever possible.  Either people coming to our house or us going there for the afternoon and supper.  We travelled the countryside visiting Dad’s family because he believed family was important and wanted to make sure we knew our cousins.  If there was no one to visit, it would just be a drive in the country; country not only being back roads, but trails into areas.  One time the path led us down into a coulee, and then we had to get up the other side.  It took a few attempts where  Dad was spinning out with the van before he backed down the hill and said “Hold on”  He floored it and we bounced all the way to the top of the hill.  Sharon remembers Louise saying, “Is he trying to kill us?”  Mom always loved their adventures and the drives.  Dad’s motto was, “You can’t see nature by driving on the highway.”

Dad always sought out projects for himself. When we were young, in the summer between farming work, Dad painted barns and outdoor buildings. Pepere had bought the paint sprayer for Dad in exchange for painting his outside buildings.  In the winters Dad rebuilt  a 1928 Pontiac, old tractors, and converted a school bus into the family camper.  For a number of years to occupy his time in the winter, he assembled equipment for farm dealerships.

When us kids were in our early 20’s Dad said that he was quitting parenting as he felt that we needed to make our own decisions.  Jo remembers once asking dad what he would do about a decision that she needed to make. His response was, “If you go to the end of your life and look back on this moment, will you regret that you didn’t do it?  If you will regret it, then that’s your answer.”

Dad retired off the farm in 1994 and then worked at Green Acres delivering anhydrous.  He loved visiting with all the clients that he delivered to, as well as driving the roads surrounding the Battlefords.  He knew every back road in the area.  He had converted the little barn at his acreage into a workshop.  Up until two years ago, he spent his time making carvings, outdoor swings and benches, indoor cabinets, stands, and headboards.  He built the mini golf course for Meota, made bird houses and plant stands that mom would paint.  He loved being creative. If you asked him to build something, he would.

Dad once said that people thought there has been so many changes during his father’s lifetime, but he said, “Consider the changes that I have seen – Horse and wagon to vehicles, to people on the moon, to combines driving by themselves, to cell phones and computers, etc.”  He always made a point of keeping his mind active because he believed that you needed to stay mentally and physically strong.  He enjoyed reading, playing his casino games, and following the news or programs on the Learning channels. And he loved crib. He also greatly enjoyed his Meota coffee buddies and would say that if you needed to figure things out, someone at that table had the answer.

Dad appreciated his family.  If he had a garden question, or needed more tomatoes or help with his cat, he’d call Susan.  If he had outside plant questions, Lois would get a call. He also really enjoyed her cookies. He had special nick names for Dave because Dad wasn’t really sure where he was going to find chocolate Easter eggs that Dave had re-hidden after the annual Easter egg hunt at the acreage.  He loved the grandkids and appreciated Amanda’s kindness, gentleness and how she would always be his little princess.  He said that Aaron reminded him of Pèpere with the way his mind worked, his business savvy, and how he could figure things out.  He talked about how talented Jared was with wood and what nice things he could make. He liked how life was lining up nicely for Tal with him moving back home to farm while also having his architect skills. He was pleased that Tal and Evan were continuing to farm. And he talked about Evan as the go-to when he wanted a challenging game of crib. He really enjoyed his visits with Jesse on the phone and appreciated how Jesse would call him out of the blue.  He enjoyed Birch and his “rotten sense of humour.”  And he appreciated Brittany’s happy disposition and how much she liked her dogs.

Dad’s love for his kids was never questionable. Each relationship was special in its own way.  Dad knew that everyone had his back all the way to the end of his life and we all knew that he watched out and thought of all us.

Dad had a candid and unique sense of humor when it came to death. He thought that 85 was a good age to die, often joking that when he turned 85, he wanted the boys to take him out hunting and not bring him back.  One day at coffee row it was pointed out that he should stop saying that in case something actually happened to him. The police would blame the boys.  On Dad’s 85th birthday he went for coffee and it was pointed out that he was still alive. Dad’s response was, “Yeah, kids now-a-days sure don’t listen.”

In November 2025, Dad fell. That was the beginning of his changes.  When Dad was in the hospital, Tal asked him how many times he had been in the hospital or needed surgery, and he said, “None.”  Which was remarkable in his 88 years.

Dad had gone from being independent – living on his own acreage with his cat and driving to see his coffee buddies everyday, to leaving that all behind overnight and becoming completely dependant on others. Dad had never wanted to be dependant on anyone. One of the Care Aides, Karen, had a way with Dad.  She could always get a smile out of him. She would tease him a lot.  At one point Dad had called her a little bugger.   She would say, “John,” or “Mr. John, this is your little bugger,” or “Your little bugger would like you to eat.” Dad would laugh and most always do whatever Karen asked him to do.

Dad was hospitalized in March, and upon returning to Harwood Manor, had to use oxygen. Bree, the administrator said that Dad got tired of having to wear the oxygen prongs and at one point told the staff where to shove them.  She laughed as she told the story, saying that the staff had shared this story with each other and that they had found it funny. She said to Louise, “You know, we really do like the cantankerous ones.” Louise thought, “Well that’s good, because if you want cantankerous, he’s your man.”

On April 11, 2026 Dad passed away with family at his side. This was also the day of Mom and Dad’s 67th Anniversary.

Dad gave us a way to remember him. Years ago, he found a quote in a book, and asked that it be included in the pamphlet at his funeral service, which we have done. It read: “Clouds are souls floating in the sky. When you look up and see a cloud – Remember me.”

Our family is so appreciative to all those who visited Dad during his stay at Harwood Manor and the hospitals. He also appreciated those visits.  We also acknowledge the staff of Harwood Manor for their care. Dad was happy there in his last months of life and really enjoyed the friendships that he made, both with staff and with the other residents. Lastly, we would like to acknowledge the values that Mom and Dad taught us about family, and how that guided us as we worked so well together in the final months of Dad’s life.

Thank you for coming today and hearing our stories about the man we called Dad

• Date : 2026-04-15
• Location : North Battleford, SK