Gross, Walter Erich

February 8,1942 – December 4, 2025

With aching hearts, we announce the passing of Walter Erich Gross—my dad, a man whose love showed itself in quiet gestures, steady routines, and small acts of care that meant more than he ever knew.

Born on February 8, 1942, he lived a life shaped by resilience, sharp humour, stubborn grit, and a softer side he rarely showed but always carried. He is survived by his former wife and lifelong friend, Lise; his children Bobbie (Coco), Eric (Chloe), and Tracy (Mark); his grandchildren Abriella, Adara, Emrik, Taylor, Joey, Kalli, and Katana; many great-grandchildren; and his sister Monica (“Porky”).

My dad had a short fuse, but an even bigger heart. He could snap quickly, yet he was the first to help,the first to show up, the first to fix what needed fixing. He worked hard—well beyond retirement—and if he saw a pile of snow; he couldn’t help but shovel it. He never said, “Look what I did.” He just did it. Some of his love came through the smallest gestures. In winter, he would drive by my mom’s house, quietly stopping to lift her windshield wipers so they wouldn’t freeze—no words, no expectations, just care.

In his later years, my mom and I became his steady circle. We checked in, sat with him, argued sometimes, laughed often, and shared the simple everyday moments that became the truest memories. Those moments meant more to him than he ever said out loud. He loved the outdoors—fishing, hunting, and our countless trips up and down Tik Road over the years. Those drives, those quiet moments in nature, were some of the places where he felt most himself. They’re memories I’ll hold onto forever.

My dad was a reflective soul. He once wrote, “I have walked through shadows and sunlight, and both have shaped me.” And they did. He wished for no funeral, and we honour that.

Those wanting to remember him may donate to the Canadian Men’s Health Foundation, supporting men’s mental health across Ontario and Canada. He will be remembered for his work-worn hands, his dry humour, his stubborn charm, and the way he loved—quietly, honestly, and in the only way he knew how. He wasn’t perfect, but he was ours. And we will miss him beyond words. “Hindsight is 20/20.”

Arrangements entrusted to Kerry Funeral Home, Wawa.