Nation's loss hits home

My link to the late jazz great Oscar Peterson is one step in six degrees of separation.
Five years ago, my guy, Glen, and I were visiting his buddy, Pierre, outside Perth, ON. Pierre was a jazz buff and, in particular, idolized Oscar Peterson. A collector, Pierre had everything the musician produced.
During the visit, I mentioned Oscar's son, Norm, was my neighbour.
Learning this, Pierre handed me an Oscar Peterson album. It was a recording of the 1958 performance at The Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, Holland. Pierre asked if I could arrange to get his most prized possession autographed by the man himself.
With great care, I took the album home to Musselman's Lake and turned up at my neighbour's house. Showing the album to the family, I asked Norm if he could have his father to sign it for Pierre.
About 10 days later, Norm Peterson arrived on my doorstep with the signed album in hand. While I stared at Oscar's signature, Norm said his father was thrilled somebody had kept one of his 50-year-old recordings in such mint condition and was more than pleased to sign it.
It was a special day. I had just returned home from Perth after attending my guy's funeral. Glen was killed in an airplane crash and our planned future together was gone.
Soon after Norm visited, I shipped the signed album to Pierre.
Through me, Norm passed on Pierre's "thank you" to his dad, while I forwarded Oscar's words to the French Canadian jazz buff. Pierre treasures the album.
To Norm Peterson, I extend my sympathies.
While the country has lost perhaps the greatest of greats, Norm has lost a father.