Brian Daviau has officially and permanently ghosted us all.
On April 15th, 2025, the world lost someone completely and utterly irreplaceable. Brian Joseph Daviau spent his final day in this life at home, surrounded by love. Bittersweet and peaceful, his last moments held a quiet, poignant beauty.
Born on September 13th, 1960, in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Brian was the youngest of three children (Sharon Beauregard and Marilyn Couet) and the beloved son of Adrien and Verna Daviau. At the age of 10, his family moved to South Porcupine.
Even from a young age, Brian was drawn to the outdoors - a love that stayed with him throughout his life. It started with matchbox cars in the dirt by the roadside and biking around with the neighbourhood kids, eventually growing into camping and canoe trips. Alongside lifelong friends like Greg Croft and his favourite teacher and mentor, Hartmut Giesenhaus, a teenage Brian began to learn the rhythm of the land and the quiet wisdom of the wild - lessons taught by firelight, paddle, and sky.
At 20, Brian and Greg moved to Thunder Bay to begin their college education in Law and Security. They hoped to pursue careers in law enforcement. It was there that Brian met David Smith, who would unknowingly change Brian's life by introducing him to his cousin, Maria.
In Brian's words, the moment he saw her, he was grateful for the bravery a few drinks gave him - enough courage to speak to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her bright red lipstick and radiant smile left no doubt; she would be his first and only love. Brian and Maria married in 1981, a simple ceremony with close friends. The beginning of a life together that was full of so much love it could have filled a hundred life times.
Brian continued his journey to becoming a police officer for Thunder Bay Police. During his years as a police officer, Brian forged friendships that lasted a lifetime - growing, learning, celebrating, and grieving together through the decades.
In 1983, Brian and Maria welcomed their son Jacob. Jacob's birth was the beginning of a devotion and love that Brian had been put on this earth to give. In 1989, Brian's love and devotion grew and it was there to welcome their daughter Jayan. Brian was made to be a father, his children were given parents who would show them how to build, love and repair when necessary.
Brian loved his children fiercely and without falter, he defined unconditional love every day with the support he and Maria provided not only for their children but for many others. Brian was lovingly known as Uncle Brian - or Daddy Brian - to a whole gaggle of children. Now, they grieve alongside his own children, united in the deep sorrow of his loss.
Brian and Maria raised their children in the best neighbourhood in Thunder Bay, Simon Fraser Drive, where neighbours became lifelong friends, providing love and support to each other through all of life's ups and downs.
Brian and his family spent many of their early summers camping at Sleeping Giant Provincial Park, surrounded by visiting family and friends. These were golden days: building fires, building sand castles, swapping stories, and teaching their children the skills and values that shaped their own lives.
Later, they bought their first camp, a modest trailer on Kashabowie Lake. It became such a cherished place that the family named their first dog "Kash" in its honour. The days filled with fishing derbies, dockside cannonballs and quiet paddles, evenings filled with laughter, and the hum of mosquitoes dancing in lantern light.
Brian was always at the center of the fun with the kids. He'd organize games on the spot, and on rainy days he read aloud from whatever book he was reading such as The Lord of the Rings because, as he joked, he could only handle so many children's books. He brought wonder and imagination wherever he went, always a child at heart.
Eventually, they moved camp to Castor Island on Lake Shebandowan. It wasn't the grandeur of the place that made it magical, but the moments shared there, so full of joy, love, and laughter. They became the kind of memories that live forever.
Brian's devotion to family deepened even further in 2014, when he met Aindriù, the first of four beloved grandchildren to grant him the cherished title of Grandpa. It was a role he embraced with his whole heart. His love, already vast, seemed to grow with each new life. After Aindriù came Pádraic, then Téodóir, Jayan and Brian Arseneau's three boys, and finally, his beautiful Abigail, Jacob and Kimmy Daviau's daughter. These four became his sun and stars.
Brian was the kind of grandfather every child dreamed of; one who got down in the dirt to play, told bedtime stories, joined in make-believe adventures, taught silly songs they probably shouldn't know, and offered unwavering love, comfort, and a listening ear on life's harder days.
In 2018, Brian was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Through the long and difficult battle, it was his grandchildren - his boys and, later, his sweet Abigail - who became his greatest source of strength and comfort.
Maria's sister Dee said it best when she recently shared, "We have lost the axis around which our family revolved. That this loss was anticipated has not made it any easier."
From the very beginning of Brian's cancer journey, we knew how it would end. Words like "terminal" and "borrowed time" hovered around us, quiet and constant reminders of the inevitable. But Brian didn't let those words define him. He had faced battles before - struggles with his own mental health -and cancer only added to that weight. Yet, even under the heaviness of it all, he fought with the same fierce spirit that had always fueled his deep love for his family.
Thanks to the care and compassion of his oncology team: Dr. K. Bezanson, Dr. A. H. Faghih and all the staff at the Cancer Clinic and the Specialty Pharmacy, Brian was granted nearly six and a half more years. That may not sound like much, but to us, it was everything. In those borrowed years, his grandchildren grew old enough to remember him, to hear his stories, to learn his words and carry his lessons. Because of that, Brian will live on in their hearts, and in the way they love and move through the world.
His battle was long and often brutal, but he never faced it alone. His beloved wife Maria was by his side every step of the way. Her nursing knowledge and unwavering care were essential in keeping Brian comfortable and, most importantly, at home, surrounded by those he loved most. Maria did not carry the weight of Brian's final journey alone. As his strength began to fade, the village that loved him stepped in - friends and family showing up with quiet acts of service and unwavering love.
Among them was one of Brian's closest and dearest friends, Bill, who helped with everything from daily chores to grandpa duties, doing his best to bridge the growing ache we all felt as Brian's time drew near. His presence, like so many others, was a blessing on difficult days.
Brian touched more lives than could ever be counted. In the days during and after his harrowing battle, countless people came forward, each with stories, gestures, and tears that spoke to just how deeply he was loved.
In particular, we are grateful to Greg Croft (Lisa), Pat Haner (Elizabeth), and Bill Quarrell (Karen), who ensured Brian was never without company when Maria or Jayan could not be there. Your generosity, your time, and your love are beyond repayment but not beyond recognition. What you gave to Brian, and to all of us, will never be forgotten.
We would also like to extend our deepest gratitude to Brian's ParaMed Nurses and PSWs - gentle souls who walked beside us through the final stretch of this long road. Their care extended not just to Brian, but to Maria as well. They listened, not only with stethoscopes but with open hearts, valuing her nursing knowledge and honouring her intuition as his partner in both life and care. Even after Brian's passing, they returned, not out of obligation, but out of kindness, to check on Maria, offering comfort in a home now quieter but still full of love. Their presence was steady, respectful, and deeply human. We are forever grateful for the grace they brought to some of our hardest days.
Brian was, above all, a man of quiet dedication, a devoted husband, loving father, loyal son and son-in-law, cherished brother, cousin, and, perhaps most importantly, a true friend. He was a steadfast refuge for us all. A quiet guardian whose presence brought safety and peace, to all he met, no matter their age.
For someone who often joked that he "hated people", his absence has left an undeniable emptiness in the hearts of so many. It turns out, he loved more deeply than he ever let on and he was loved just as fiercely in return.
Brian didn't speak often about what he believed came after this life. He wasn't sure of what lay beyond, but he was certain of two things: that he wouldn't have left if he didn't have to, and that if there was anything after this world, he would keep the promise he made to his daughter - to find her, and all those he loved, once again.
And so, as we carry on without him, we remember that his physical absence may be strange and feel unbearable somedays. He will continue on in each of our stories with the lessons and love he shared with us all. It doesn't feel ok but "it will be ok, just different."
"The Road goes ever on and on down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone, and I must follow, if I can"
-J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit.
Condolences may be made through www.nwfainc.com
