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One morning last week, we were having breakfast when the radio was detailing the elaborate preparations for the funeral of Cpl. Nathan Cirillo.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. “If I ever get shot at work, don’t let them do this to me.”

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My wife kept reading, unedified. I can live with Stephen Harper as prime minister. My personal eulogist? Not so much. Among other things, it would probably kill my mother.

Soon after, an email arrived from the United Way. It began:

“Last week this city was rocked by the violent and shocking shooting of Cpl. Nathan Cirillo at our National War Memorial. Even with the uncertainty of what was unfolding, many people in this city performed incredible acts to help, ignoring any risk to their personal safety.

“As a community we came together to care for and protect our fellow citizens.

“You may not have realized it, but you have also stepped up to be a hero.”

This cannot be true. I’m not a hero for $20 a week to the United Way. I should feel lucky to afford it. If anything, I should be giving more.