My dad George Telch was an incredible man with an amazing mind. He valued higher education and was a very well-respected professor at Seneca College in Toronto. He read books every chance he got and knew something about every topic that came up in conversation. He was a true storyteller and at every family meal would entertain us with stories from years gone by. He was also a true inspiration to his students—and to me growing up. He married my mom Rose (who was the love of his life) when I was 13. He took me and my brother Tom in as his own kids and loved us completely.
In 1994, at the age of 58, my dad was diagnosed with diabetes. He had not been himself for quite some time. He was always tired, thirsty and very lightheaded. One day, he lost his balance and ended up at North York General Hospital where he received the news.
The doctors used the term brittle diabetes, which explained the blood sugar swings that disrupted my dad’s daily life and required frequent hospitalization. He injected himself with insulin four times a day, and had to watch what, when and how much he ate. His activity level also had a huge impact on his blood sugar levels. We never knew what the day would be like, but he had my mom and us kids supporting him.
Despite the challenges of managing his diabetes, my dad never gave up. Over the years, he developed osteoporosis, cardiovascular disease and eye damage. He had foot problems as diabetes impaired the circulation in his feet and had many skin conditions.
He was persistent and did everything the doctors told him to do in order to not get worse. Getting better was not in the cards for my dad, but managing and slowing down the persistent long-term problems was a possibility.
Selfless and endlessly generous, my dad donated to charities, including Diabetes Canada. He taught us what it is to be philanthropic. His goal was to be there for my mom (whom he called his Queen) and for us—and to one day meet his grandson. In December 2018, his wish came true, and he met baby Jaxon, my son. My dad’s life was now complete. At this point, he was very ill, but his sense of humour never seemed to leave him.
On May 7, 2020, he closed his eyes and took his last breath while holding my mom’s hand. My dad died peacefully, knowing he was deeply loved by those he loved in return. While it was desperately sad for me to lose him, I was glad that his suffering was over.
I joined Diabetes Canada three years afterward. I work towards a world free from diabetes in my dad’s memory. I’m honoured to collaborate with generous donors who leave gifts in their wills, which enable us to advance our mission of finding a cure and supporting those living with the condition. I know that my dad would be proud of the work I’m doing just as I was so immensely proud of him.
Kind regards,
Kate Turoczi
Kányádi Sándor:
Útravaló ének
Tavasz jöttén a kis patak
akár egy kis egérke
kikukkint s nyomban kiszalad
a jég alól a jégre
Cincogat szaglál szimatol
és azt mondja no végre
kijutottam a jég alól
a sötétből a fényre.
És elindul megy mendegél
cincogat mondikálgat
és fölbiggyeszt – hamár egér –
bajszul egy szénaszálat
Térül-fordul s már szembejön
és egyre azt zenéli:
a legeslegnagyobb öröm
félelem nélkül élni
Elzirrenti a szúnyog és
a szúnyogtól a szellő
és tőle megfújja szél
az a semmirekellő
és azt se mondja köszönöm
világgá fütyörészi:
a legeslegnagyobb öröm
félelem nélkül élni
Vigyázba állnak a határ-
sorompók égre néznek
a tetejükbe gólyapár
épít magának fészket
és azt keleplik odafönn
s még a béka se kétli:
a legeslegnagyobb öröm
félelem nélkül élni
Zengik fütyülik huzalok
a szerelő s a pózna
cinkék cinegék víg rigók
ereszen a csatorna
Zengi lanka és hegytető
s fújja ahogy csak bírja
az éppen égre röppenő
parányi kis pacsirta
Megáll a nap a delelőn
s dúdolja döngicséli
a legeslegnagyobb öröm
félelem nélkül élni
és ontja ontja sugarát
hogy jutna bár egy résnyi
oda is ahol nem lehet
félelem nélkül élni
oda is ahol nem lehet
félelem nélkül élni
Drága Férjemre gondolva, aki Isten tenyerén félelem nélkül élhet, a boldog Feltámadás reményével.
Dancs Rózsa