Francis "Frank" Greenshields MacPhail

May 11, 1940 - November 28, 2024

Born in Rothesay, Scotland, Frank MacPhail passed away on November 28, 2024, in Uxbridge, Ontario, at the age of 84. A devoted father to Karen, John (Volk), Christine, Carl (Gallant), and Andrea, Majid (Samadi). Loving Poppa to Jessica, John-Francis, Jordan, Sarah, Hazel, Samantha, and Sophia, and Great-Grandad to Maddy and John-Collyn.

Joining his parents John and Euphemia, his brother Mac MacPhail, and his sisters Jean Milner, Effie Bell, and Nettie Purdie in Heaven, he leaves behind his wee sister Christine Morrison, cousins Eileen and Lynne, and many nieces and nephews in England, Scotland, and abroad.

Frank and his beloved wife Hazel, married for 45 years, emigrated from England to Canada in search of a better life, raising three daughters in the Don Mills area. They created countless cherished memories, from festive dinners with the Morrison family to weekend adventures at Petticoat Creek.

Frank was a carpenter for the Toronto Board of Education and a lover of the water, happiest when sailing the Alena II or camping in remote locations. He encouraged his family to embrace all things Canadian—cheering for the Maple Leafs, ice skating, and cross-country skiing.

A devoted grandfather, Poppa brought joy to his grandchildren by building swings in the house, constructing elaborate forts, and making bath time an adventure. Known for his humor and resourcefulness, Frank retrofitted special needs equipment and welcomed Sunnybrook Hospital friends every Halloween.

The family expresses heartfelt gratitude to the staff and residents at Douglas Crossing, especially Loretta and Madison Finney, as well as Rahim Wolfe from Carius Homecare, for their kindness and companionship.

Donations in Frank's memory are appreciated by the Uxbridge Loaves and Fishes Food Bank.

“The Clock of Life,” a poem Frank cherished, offers timeless inspiration:

The clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.

To lose one’s wealth is sad indeed,
To lose one’s soul is such a loss
That no man can restore.

The present only is our own,
So live, love, toil with a will,
Place no faith in “Tomorrow”
For the Clock may then be still.
- Robert Smith

Thanks for all you did for us, Dad. You will be forever in our hearts.