A memorial Service celebrating Paul's life filled with family and friends, was held on July, 28 at Congregation Habonim in Toronto. I was honored to be asked to eulogize Paul. Not a tear was spared. I cried out the eulogy as follows: (condensed)

"Family, friends, acquaintances of Paul. Let us celebrate Paul's life. Each of us has been touched by Paul in some way. Some people are flickers of light passing through time while others are a consistent glow for many years. For me Paul was my glow for nearly twenty years. There are moments which I remember that I would like to share with you, which may paint Paul in a way that you might not have seen.

I met Paul through a mutual friend, Peter Foltinski. I saw such strong camaraderie between the two that I was inspired to join them in a conversation. Before too long we would attempt to solve the worlds problems over coffee at Second Cup in Bloor West village. When I found out that Paul was an avid bicyclist I was thrilled. After all I just acquired a bicycle store and I saw a perfect business opportunity. I started organizing bicycle trips which included Paul and a number of locals. Often I would suggest to Paul that a new bike was in order and encouraged him to come to my store for an orientation. Paul agreed. Just as I thought my golden goose has arrived I see Paul pulling up to the coffee shop on a brand new expensive bike - not from my store.

As Paul and I biked along exploring the city I discovered that Paul was quite a warrior. He had strong views on protection of the environment. For example, when he noticed someone throwing out a crumpled piece of paper out of a parked car window, he promptly picked it up and threw it back in, not realizing that there were four strapping dudes behind the blacked out window of the car. And if it wasn't for our speedy departure in high gear I would not be here to tell the story.

It was not long before psoriatic arthritis started to overcome Paul. Cycling became painful as mobility was limited. The warrior that he was, Paul was not ready for a wheelchair. He embarked a lengthy battle with his affliction and with the help a clinical trial drug he miraculously started showing signs of improvement. That was good enough to rekindle his passion for motorcycling which started long before we met. Paul and I begun to travel on our steel horses - first around the block, and then we tackled route 66.

Motorcycling with Paul was always interesting. We never left on time. We generally slept in confined quarters, and we consumed humongous amounts of food. After all our motto was, eat to ride - ride to eat. Paul would always take the bed closest to the toilet. When camping he would seize the warmer sleeping bag. Paul was an active sleeper. One night while camping I woke up to an arm slithering across my chest, the voice next to me whispering "oh, Judy". The following night everything in my possession was separating Paul from me.

Paul left us too soon. For Paul there would be roads untraveled, books unread, jokes untold, love unfulfilled. In spite all all the challenges that his life had dished out, Paul lived. And while most of us will die dying, Paul died living. I will miss him dearly"