AisKara's Thoughts

Grandad,

Yesterday was your celebration of life ceremony. It’s been almost two months that you’ve been gone, and I still have such a hard time believing it. Everyday, something brings me back to this cruel reality that I’m living in without you here. I never thought that I would lose you so soon, I always thought that we had more time.

Unsurprisingly, I was the only member of your immediate family, other than Steve, who got up to speak about you. Surprisingly, it was so much harder than I thought that it would be. The whole week before the event, I’d been planning out what I wanted to say, but when the day finally came and I was up in front of all of those people who knew you, suddenly no words seemed good enough to express how much you meant to me. No words seemed enough to express the hole that’s left inside my life now that you’re gone. So now, I’m trying to write to see if maybe I can get something better out to really do your memory justice.

Grandad was a kind, passionate soul. I don’t have a single negative memory with him, which, in a family like mine where people are always fighting, is no small miracle. I think that speaks to who grandad was, not just as a person, but to me personally.

It’s no secret that I was the favourite grandchild of nana and grandad. While that never played much of a difference in what each of us got from them in terms of physical possessions, it did make a difference to the time spent with them. It also makes a difference in the memories that I have of both nana and grandad, and the profound pain inside me now that both of them are gone.

Growing up, they were always around. Even when they moved to Cornwall, nana and grandad would come and visit us every few weeks. Those weekends with them were the highlights of my childhood. Unfortunately, due to other trauma growing up, I don’t remember a lot of specifics about my life before I was 18 or so, but I remember the happiness of spending time with them anytime they would come over.

The specifics that I do remember are all at their house. While a lot of their time at our house was spent helping my dad with projects, whenever we went to their house, the time was spent with us. We would almost always have Swiss Chalet, unless nana decided to cook. Nana would always have pears and apples for me that she would lovingly cut up. Meanwhile, grandad would always have something new to teach me.

Most of our visits were spent in his basement workshop or basement living room. He spent hours teaching me all of the knots that he has in a display case on his wall. He taught me how to handle a knife safely. He taught me wood carving at his work bench. When I was old enough, he helped dad teach me archery.

Grandad and I never had a lot of the same interests. Where he loved tools and the outdoors, I loved books and the indoors. However, we did share a love of crafting, a love of archery, and a love of nature.

I remember standing at the bay window in grandad’s kitchen watching the birds with him. He’d have his books out to show me the different kinds that would fly into his feeders. Other times, he would teach me about plants and their properties. While I never shared his love of gardening, I did share his love of the plants in his garden and through the rest of nature. He would show me the different kinds of ferns, which were always his favourite plants. He would talk to me about how he was growing a specific kinds of nightshade flower, and that he had to be really careful with them because they were poisonous, but he loved the flowers so much that he needed to grow them.

Grandad was never really the kind of person who liked to sit and talk. Not that he didn’t like to talk, he loved to, but he always needed to be doing something at the same time. I think he’s where my own ADHD comes from.

Grandad loved life and he was always full of it. I remember countless hours spent helping him get music on his iPod, or helping him download dance videos and burning them onto DVDs for him. I remember his love of KD Lang music. I remember downloading belly dancing videos, and thinking at the time that it was so weird that my grandad wanted to learn to belly dance. Looking back on it now, I just see it as part of his passion for life.

Grandad was also the embodiment of “waste not, want not”. He always kept things that others would think of as trash, but to grandad they were pieces to fix something else, to patch something else, to extend the life of something else that he had. I think the entry for “frugal” in the dictionary probably has his picture next to it, but it’s always something that I admired about him.

I have a connection to my family because of grandad. Decades ago, he started working on our family tree. So long ago, that some of his files are on floppy disks that I now have to figure out how to read. However, it was when I started studying at Marianopolis that he brought me into the loop. He had run into a stumbling block with some missing records and needed my help because I had access to academic records that he didn’t. It was a project that we would spend the rest of his life working on, and one that I deeply regret not being able to finish before he was killed.

Grandad, I owe so much to you and nana. I have my love of knots because of your time with the Scouts. I have my love of woodworking because of your love of the hobby. I have my love of archery because of you. I have my collection of knives because of your love of good knives. I have a love of nature because you helped instill that in me. I have a connection to my family because you trusted me enough to help you with this lifelong family tree project that you had been working on. I have a love of life because of the love and passion that you brought to every moment of yours.

Grandad, I’m going to miss you so much. I still can’t go a day without crying because you’re gone. I look at my little Felix and I mourn him not being able to see first hand what a great man his great grandad was. I can’t believe that you’re gone. I can’t believe that mum and dad are going to sell your house and I’ll never be able to see it again. I can’t believe that I’ll never hear your voice on the other end of the phone again. I know that my life has to move on, that life doesn’t stop just because you’re not here anymore, but I’m not ready for a life without you.

I hope that you’re at peace. I hope that you’ve been reunited with nana and that you’re both happy, wherever that may be. I miss you both so much. Everything that I have ever done, everything that I will ever do, is in hopes that I make the two of you proud. I love you both so much, and I hope to whatever gods are out there that you knew that.

If anyone reading would like to help me honour grandad’s memory, please consider donating to the GoFundMe that I’ve set up in his memory, https://www.gofundme.com/f/gregory-lawrence-berube-memorial-fund