Christopher Nigel Ramjass passed away peacefully on March 9, 2026, at Trillium Hospital—the same place where his life began. Though his time with us was far too short, Chris leaves behind a quiet legacy of love, loyalty, and kindness that touched everyone who knew him.

Chris was gentle, stubborn, and full of warmth. With a distinct giggle and an easy smile, he lived by a simple philosophy—what’s done is done—and did everything his own way. Much like his father, Franklin, he loved hard, worked hard, played hard, and lived simply—no frills, always in his signature dress clothes.

He spent 15 years in sales at Nailor Industries, building lasting friendships and becoming an honorary uncle to many coworkers’ children.

Chris somehow survived childhood on cereal, ramen, and milk. Athletic and playful, he loved soccer and street hockey, and later developed a passion for golf—remarkably good, or so he always said.

His nephews—Rhys (Goose), Jared (Nibs), and Cade (Fribbles)—were the loves of his life, and he had a special gift for making each believe he was the favorite. His grand-nephew Easton (Goosilini) brought him new joy.

Chris showed his love in playful ways. His sister, Fran Colley, will forever carry the quiet, protective love he showed her—along with the nickname he gave her, “Ugly.” His mother and cousins remember his signature “love pinches,” while younger cousins fondly recall being bribed to fetch him a cold beer.

He also carried deep love for those who had gone before him, especially his cherished Uncle Errol. It comforts us to imagine Uncle Errol welcoming him now, holding him gently by the ankles—making up for lost time.

Chris enjoyed life’s simple pleasures—cooking a perfectly seasoned prime rib, sharing cold beers at the pub with friends, and cheering on his beloved Philadelphia Eagles.

Chris is survived by his parents, Franklin and Margaret Ramjass; his sister Fran Colley and her partner Robert Kazarian; nephews Rhys and his partner Jillian Earle, Jared, and Cade; grand-nephew Easton; and many aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends who loved him dearly.

In his final act of generosity, Chris donated his organs, giving the gift of life to others. Though he is gone, parts of him still breathe, his heart still beats, and his love lives on.

His presence was gentle but unforgettable, and though he was quiet, he will be missed louder than words.