Peter (Pete) Bohach passed away peacefully as he was waking up for the day at his usual time, around 5am, on March 24, 2017. Grandpa was born in the farmhouse his parents built close to Ituna on July 10, 1924. He was the fourth of eleven children. He attended Lunnville School until grade 8 and traveled a mile and a half to get there. His sister Natalie described the travel: by foot in the summer; horse and sleigh box with a big feather comforter in the winter. He was born, raised, married, worked, and watched future generations grow around him while continuously caring for his Saskatchewan land. As a young man, he held dreams of being a police officer but ultimately found his place in the world following the family tradition of farming. He borrowed funds from his father to purchase his uncle John J. Holowenko's farm before he married. It was while standing on a bench at his brother Bernie and sister-in-law Martha's wedding that he saw his soon-to-be wife Olga (b.1926 - d. 2014) from across the room and said to himself, "She's the one for me." When retelling the story, he proudly said to his daughter Veronica, "And then I got her!" After marrying in Ituna on June 20, 1948, they spent a short time in Saskatoon before moving back to the farm and remained there, dedicated to each other and to the land, up until their passings. Grandpa truly loved farming and was incredibly hard working, and he often said things like, "There is nothing like being out on the tractor." His commitment to the land, the farm, and his family were everything to him. With few amenities, they slowly grew the farm and would often speak of times without running water or electricity. It was rough living in the early days, and they persevered. Their sources of heat were wood and coal, and in the winter, the drinking water in the kitchen - and eventually in the pipes - would freeze. He would tell stories about the apple crates they used as furniture and the turkeys they kept in the room upstairs because the barn was too cold. He also enjoyed having fun - he was known for being a very smooth dancer and loved having children in the house. Even in his final years, Grandpa was learning and adopting new technologies. He put his foot down at the idea of an iPad and Skype, and admitted he didn't like using the tractor because of all the bells and whistles; however, last spring, he started using the tractor's GPS system and told his son Vern that he loved it. He farmed every year, and could be seen by the neighbours out on the field by 5am. It was only last year that he said to us, "I'm not farming; I'm just helping." He couldn't wait until spring, because it meant the next farming season was coming. He always seemed to have a rhythm and connection to the land. An attentive and emotional observer, Grandpa was a true caregiver in all ways. His devotion and gentle nature left an imprint on everyone who knew him. During wartime, he did his part by staying home to help his father, who suffered from MS, to run the family farm. His love for and devotion to his wife was boundless - he cared for her through the many years she suffered from rheumatoid arthritis, and was her primary caregiver until the last couple months before she passed three years ago. Without hesitation, he did the cooking, bathing, watering of plants - all of the domestic chores - under her careful supervision and guidance, of course. After she passed, he would often comment on being lonely without her. Their 66 years together were a beautiful testament to the strength and depth of marriage and companionship. He was always looking to be of assistance. When his granddaughter, Carla, was visiting him last weekend, he described some home maintenance that required hiring a trades person. In describing the details of the work he would not be doing himself, he was eager to point out his role: "I could do the sweeping." After Grandma passed away, he came to allow advances in technology to help him hear. Over the last three years, though they were hard for him in many ways, we also saw him open up and communicate more, which was a beautiful thing for us to share with him. He was amazed at how well the hearing aids worked. As his niece Violet, explained, "He was like a kid with a new toy." After many years of muffled and lost sounds, he was hearing again the aural architecture of the farm. The returning familiarity of the washing machine and dryer, the birds outside, and even the sound of the toilet flushing, not to mention a reinvigorated ability to communicate with family and friends all helped him adjust to life without Olga. He was very open minded, very understanding, and always wanted the best for people, for them to be happy no matter what that meant or looked like. For him, it was always just about what made them happy, with no judgement, even if he couldn't understand people's decisions. He also had a very matter-of-fact way about him. His subtle yet blunt manner made for a particular humour unique to him. He was stable and quiet, strong and playful. He had many gestures, sounds, and mannerisms that were all his own. He had an honest way of being. I loved watching Grandpa watch us when we were at the farm - he was so excited, his shoulders would raise at the sight of us and he would have a huge smile on his face. So much of his way of being was downplayed - he was a man of few words, but they were very well chosen and his message always came across. The best memory I (Justina) have to truly explain the caring and attentive nature of my grandfather is how he would brush my hair. When I was around 4, my hair was very long, tangly, thick, and curly. I would scream and yell when anyone else would try to brush it. I specifically remember, after getting out of the tub, sitting on the beige-and-brown leaf patterned carpet still in the living room. Grandpa would run the brush's bristles through minute sections of my hair so softly and carefully that it never pulled. And that was the thing about him - he made it so easy to feel safe and taken care of in his presence. I also remember him being able to tame the wild cats that we would find in the old schoolhouse-turned-barn. Before his passing, he shared with Carla that he was starting to just sit and think about old memories. In typical quiet stubbornness, he was preparing himself for a gentle death. Always sharp and focussed, he was often the one to remind Carla and I of things to do, take, or check while at the farm with him. He told Carla last weekend that he wanted no fuss when he passed away. Pete leaves behind his children - Veronica (Clarence) Andrew and Vern Bohach (Adrienne Krahenbil); his grandchildren - Cory Watson and Justina and Carla Bohach; his great grandchildren - Kaelene, Christian and Elijhia Banias-Watson; his great-great grandchild Sophiah, "the little one", and his sisters Ollie Buchko, Natalie (Nester) Smysnuik, and Hope (Ray) Bidwell. He also leaves behind a gaggle of nieces and nephews, great and great-great nieces and nephews, and in-laws. He was predeceased by his wife Olga (Woytas) Bohach, mother and father, Justina (Dorosh) and William Bohach, and siblings Mary, Nick, John, Mike, Bernie, Morris, and Ladimer. He will be fondly remembered and dearly missed, and our lives are better for having been touched by him. Recently, his niece Laurie said that, when it was his time, "the gates will be wide open and waiting to welcome Uncle Pete." And that was surely the case. Prayers were held on Wednesday, March 29, 2017 at Sacred Heart Ukrainian Catholic Church in Ituna. The Funeral Liturgy was held on Thursday, March 30, 2017 also at Sacred Heart Ukrainian Catholic Church with Very Rev. Peter Pidskalny, C.Ss.R. and Bishop Emeritus Michael Wiwchar, C.Ss.R. concelebrating. The cross bearer was Christian Watson and the epistle reader was Sylvester Woytas. The interment took place at St. Peter & Paul Parish Cemetery, Jasmin District with Fred Skorobohach, Dennis Woytas, Sylvester Woytas, Clarence Andrew, Clayton Kentz and John Bohach serving as the casket bearers. Memorial donations may be made in memory of Peter to Jasmin Cemetery. Box 149, Kelliher, SK, S0A 1B0 as gifts of remembrance. Vichnaya Pamyat! Eternal Memory!