Dale Guy Hillier

Dale Hillier passed away on Tuesday, August 3, 2021 at the age of 78 years.

He is survived by his children, Jackie (Tilson), Karen (Pat), Donna (David), Debbie, Lisa; grandchildren, Terri Lynn, Robyn, Nolan, Alexis, Samantha, Joseph, Danielle, Brittany, Chantal; great grandchildren, Riley, Tavaha, Mason, Louise, Aria, Ava; brothers, Ralph (Vivian) Hillier and Garth (Carolyn) Hillier; wife, Marie Jones-Hillier along with numerous nieces, nephews, great-nieces and nephews and extended family.

He was pre deceased by his father, Aurthur Hillier (1954) and mother, Vera Hillier (1977); first wife, Margaret Hillier (2014); brother, Floyd Hillier (1996); sister and brother-in-law, Shirley Kress (2019) and Jacob Kress (2009); son, Glenn; granddaughter, Jessica

Our Family Circle

Our family circle has been broken,

A link gone from our chain;

But though we’re parted for a while,

We know we’ll meet again.

Some day we hope to meet you,

Some day we know not when,

We shall meet in a better land

And never part again.

We shall meet with many a loved one

That was torn from our embrace,

We shall listen to their voices,

And behold them face to face.

Sunshine passes, shadows fall,

Love’s remembrance outlasts all.

Dale always had a good sense of humor. He worked as a taxi cab driver in Calgary for many years. One of the family members shared a memory of Dale driving taxi cab which was: We loved how I could get out of the cab and give him a big hug and tell him he is the best taxi driver in Calgary. Then watch how everyone reacted. He also worked as a truck driver in Shaunavon, Saskatchewan for Goulet Trucking. Dale was an amazing son, brother, uncle, husband and friend.

Dale will be laid to rest at the Climax Cemetery in Saskatchewan alongside family members at a later date this year. In lieu of flowers, if friends so desire you are welcome to make a donation in Dale’s name to the

Alzheimer Society of Canada

.

My Daddy’s Just a Trucker

There ain’t a thing you use today

That some old trucker didn’t bring.

Somebody’s daddy road all night long,

So you could do your thing.

Your thing, my thing, this countries thingThis whole thing rolls on wheels.

We’re kept alive by the men that drive,

These men God made out of steel.

You just can’t jam gears for thirty years

Without learnin’ a thing or two.

A country don’t move, and a country don’t eat,

And girl, that brings me back to you.

The next time you talk about your daddy

You understand child you talkin’ about the man.

You’re the daughter of a hard headed, proud thinking Hoss

Who just don’t fit most folks plans.

So, don’t tell me that your daddy’s just a trucker.

He’s a man that takes this country where it goes,

And I just hope that down inside

You’ll someday feel that pride

That I used to feel pushin’ that old road.”

And here’s to the trucker who lost his life,

on a lonely stretch of road

And here’s to the loved ones he’s left behind,

Forever his memory they’ll hold.

It was her turn next, in Sunday School Class,

To tell him what her Daddy did.

The lesson that day was on the ways

That Daddy’s love their kids.

One kid’s Daddy was a doctor, another was a C.P.A.

The teacher said that their daily bread

Was bought with their Daddy’s pay.

The teacher looked at the little girl.

He could tell she was about to cry.

So he figured something must be wrong,

So he quietly asked her why.

So the little girl with tear-filled eyes,

Said, “You have all the luck.

Your Daddy’s are rich, and they drive big cars,

And mine just drives a truck.”

And the teacher spun his wheelchair around,

And he grimly faced the class.

He said “I taught you well, but I’ll burn in Hell”

Before I let this statement pass,

You kids see me as a Sunday School teacher,

Just a cripple with a lesson plan:

But down inside of these twisted legs

Are the bones of a truckin’ man.

He’s a trucker man, girl ya hear me?

Don’t give me that hang dog look

Your daddy’s a gear jammin’ king a the road

He’s a winner in any man’s book.

Who feeds ya kid, does a grocery store?

Does the fast food joint down the street?

Or is some 18 wheeler, runnin’ all night long,

Bringin’ home every bite you eat?