Going Home to Say Goodbye

This post is going to be a little different than any of our other posts. First off, it’s not going to be written by Natasha. She has been doing all the work on this blog for the year, but this week it’s going to be me (Will) writing instead.  Second, this post isn’t going to be about what we have seen and done this week because we haven’t really been traveling recently.

This is going to be tough for me to write, but I felt like it was something that I needed to do. A big change in my life happened a couple weeks ago and I felt like writing this was one way to help me get through it all and sort through some of my feelings. So here it goes.

We are no longer in New Zealand. We left on January 30 and headed back to Ontario. 

To tell this properly, I have to go back a couple months. In November, I got the news that my grandfather was sick. Years ago, he had been diagnosed with Lymphoma, but he had been in remission for many years, after a long treatment of chemotherapy. During some tests in November, he found out that the cancer had returned and was now in his spleen. The doctors informed us that this time around, there was no treatment that would be able to help. However, the doctors and others felt that he would still have a lot of time left and I decided I would just make sure to get a good visit in with him when we finished our travels in July. I was still talking to him on the phone regularly and he seemed much like his old self.

Over the next couple months, my grandfather started going in and out of the hospital more regularly, but always bounced back after being put on new medication. After hearing about the regular visits to the hospital, we decided to head to Ontario for a visit with him after we finished travelling through New Zealand.

However, the cancer progressed much faster then anyone anticipated. On January 29, I got a phone call saying that I needed to come home as soon as I could because my grandfather was in the hospital and was not doing well. We caught the next available flight and arrived home late on the night of January 30.  That night and into the next day, I was able to spend time with him and we were able to talk to each other. I got to tell him some things that I had never told him before, but was sure he already knew. I will always be grateful for that time to say what needed to be said. I was in and out of the hospital with him over the next few days, but he was unable to speak much after that initial day. On the morning of February 4, my grandfather passed away peacefully with my mother and sister at his side.

Now, my grandfather and I have always had a special relationship. I was able to spend more time with him than most people get to spend with their grandparents. Growing up, we would visit my grandparents every other weekend. As I got older, my sister and I would go to their house during summer break while my parents were at work. During these summer days, I would work alongside my grandfather on many projects around the house. He taught me about carpentry when we built a shed in his back yard, about electrical when we rewired his workroom, about construction when we build a Quonset hut, about driving when I was 12 years old, and about hard work when we moved countless truckloads of mulch from the dump to his gardens.

My grandfather was a man who knew how to work hard because he had been doing it since he was a kid. He left school at the age of 13, and got a job working with men in a peat bog outside of Port Colborne, Ontario.  Even though he only went to school until the age of 13, my grandfather was one of the smartest people I have ever known. He seemed to know how to build just about anything. You would ask him how to build something, and after just a few seconds to think about it, he could tell you exactly how it should be done and how you could do it using the least amount of materials. He didn’t have much growing up, so eliminating waste was important to him. He said that one of his greatest accomplishments was designing a shed that he build for himself and his neighbors, leaving only a six inch by two foot piece of plywood as scrap when it was finished. Growing up without a lot also meant that he wouldn’t pass up something being given away for free. We would drive around the neighborhood in his truck and toss bags of leaves in the back so that he could use them for compost. When they offered free mulch at the dump once a year, we would load truckload after truckload by hand from open to close. Even as a teenager, it was hard for me to keep up with him when he was in his mid 60’s.

When I was a teenager, I took a road trip with him to Cochrane in Northern Ontario to see where he grew up. I got to see his old home, school and farm, and I got a glimpse of how difficult it likely had been to try to make a living up there. We also rode the Polar Bear Express up to Moosonee to visit some of his old friends who still live there. They were so welcoming to us even after all the years he had been away, and that showed me just how much other people thought of my grandfather.
This last summer, we celebrated my grandfathers 80th birthday with a big party. Besides our family, there were many other people who came to the party who knew my grandfather from different places. Some were old work friends, some had known him since they were young, some were neighbors, and some had just met him in the last few years at the YMCA or through his dart league. It was great to see so many people out to celebrate him, and everyone I talked to had a great story to share about him. These stories often had something to do with my grandfather helping them in some way. A lot of people told me about him building something around their house, but many people were just as happy that they got to have regular conversations with him that brightened their day. He was always willing to lend a hand whenever someone needed it, but he was also willing to sit down with anyone and change their day with a conversation.

This is what I am going to miss the most about him. I know I will miss having his endless supply of knowledge on hand whenever I have a question about how to do something, but what I will miss the most will be his loving personality, laughing with him, and the great conversations we would have. Saying goodbye to my grandfather has been one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I am so thankful for all the great memories I have of him and everything I have learned from him. He was a great man and I know he will be missed by many people.



Comments

  1. Saying goodbye is hard. Your Grandfather sounds like a very interesting, wonderful man. Thinking of you and Natasha, Will, and your family, and sending lots of love.

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  2. It is great you were able to make it back to spend time with your family. Thinking of you all.

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  3. What a beautiful tribute to your grandfather Will. What good fortune to have such a strong relationship and so many memories. Warm thoughts to you, Natasha and your family.

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  4. Will, your grandfather sounds like a wonderful man and loving grandfather who was an important part of your life. I am sure he took great pride in teaching you and shaping you into the person you have become. You have many special memories to cherish.
    Sending hugs to you and Natasha.

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  5. This is a wonderful tribute to an obviously wonderful man. My heart is sad for your loss. I hope that all he has taught you and all the times you have had with him bring you a bit of comfort at this time. Thinking of you guys and sending lots of love.

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