Gibson Boyd

Toronto, d. 8.January.2011

Gibson Boyd 

The true-life adventure ended suddenly at age 39, after a brave battle with Bipolar disease. Gibson will be missed immensely by Denise and sons Seamas and Alex. Gibson was the beloved son of Margaret 'Peggy' Boyd (nee Lyons) of Toronto and Robert G. Boyd (Gabriele) of Vancouver.

He brought joy to grandparents James A. (predeceased) and Margaret 'Muggins' Lyons of Toronto. He is survived by his aunts Kathryn Lyons of Arnprior and Mary Lyons-Rath (Don) of Renfrew and by uncles James G. Lyons (Carol) of Toronto and Douglass Boyd of Chicago and had an especially close kinship with his many cousins.

Gibson had many close friends he considered his 'chosen' family including Chris Luginbuhl, Tracy Fernandes and Paul Benoit of Toronto; Joe Quercia of Nova Scotia; Elie Lion of Spain; Christophe Mathiote, Stephan and Eriq of France; and many others too numerous to name.

Gibson was passionate about cycling (including mountain biking, cycle cross and adventure racing), scuba diving, skiing and snowboarding. Gibson was an environmental advocate and loved nothing better than partaking in these activities with family and friends. Gibson's greatest achievement would be his treasured relationship with his son Seamas.

 Family will be holding a private service but Friends and Family are invited to Celebrate Gib's life with a Memorial held on Friday, January 28, 2010 between 4 and 8 p.m. at The ONLY/The ONE at 966 Danforth Avenue (just west of Donlands), Toronto. In lieu of flowers, a donation to any of the following charities that Gib supported would be appreciated: The CAMH Foundation 1 800 414-0471 ARC (Advocacy for the respect of cyclists) Toronto Environmental Alliance actioncentre/donate

Let us all celebrate Gib's life and attempt one of the following 'Gibson-approved' activities: Get outside Build a canoe Have an adventure Embrace an unmet friend Cycle as if you stole it! Gib, we lost you too soon! 

Gibson was a modern day gentleman, a great guy to work with and a better guy to hang out with. He was a brilliant, generous man who could carry on an intelligent discussion on any subject. His weapon was his infectious disarming smile.

I will be forever grateful for the French-English translation of a major messenger report he did for me just because he could.

One winter he would ride in to the city every morning from the edge of Etobicoke and Mississauga and I would pass him going the other way at about Islington and the Queensway. Sometimes we would stop and chat but most days we would just wave to each other. On those freezing cold or snow filled days that I wouldn’t want to make the ride, I would still do it. I did because I knew Gib would be doing it too and I did it for the reward, respect, and the friendly acknowledgement of his wave.

He was a very fast rider and he would never show off but I remember one summer day in the late nineties when it was really slow. I saw Gib riding down Bay Street South of Queen. He was riding with no hands, standing up on his pedals with his arms outstretched to each side. I could not help but notice the clock tower of Old City Hall looming in the background. He stopped in front of me and I said “Gibson you liked like you were being crucified on the tower of Old City Hall.”

He said “It makes sense, a bike messenger dying for the sins of Bay Street.”

- Joe Hendry