to wake up in heaven

My Grandpa died sometime after he went to bed on Thursday night.

He was 88 years old and in seemingly fine health.

The conclusion is that his heart simply stopped beating.

When he didn't attend his regular Saturday morning gathering with friends, one of the men contacted his mother who lives in Grandpa's building and has a key to his suite. She discovered why he didn't meet his friends that day, and why he didn't send his regular daily email to his three daughters.

He was busy getting acquainted with some angels, and was finally looking into the eyes of his "loving heavenly father" (as Grandpa always prayed). He was reuniting with his wife and son, and many beloved friends. I wonder if he went to bed every night, anticipating that he might wake up in heaven?

We are sad, and surprised by his unexpected departure. My feelings are mixed. I am very sad that as long as I'm on this side of heaven and he is on the other, I won't see his big grin, touch his warm, soft hands, or see the familiar shuffle in his walk. I'll miss knowing that every day before I am even out of my bed, he has probably already prayed for me and my family, and even some of my friends. I'd love to see his prayer list. I'm sure many of you reading this are on it and you didn't even know. I think I am more sad for my mom and aunts who have now lost both of their parents. Grandma died many years ago after a lengthy battle with several health issues. To know that Grandpa was spared a long illness, depression, continued loss of independence, or a terrible accident ... we are very thankful.

Great Grandpa meeting Max - December 2004
March 31, 2005 - with some of his great-grands.
He had 16, and one on the way.
July 24, 2007 - Short visit to meet Marty for the first time.
January 6, 2009 - Snuggling Jaxon (12 days old).
This visit almost didn't happen because of the weather.
I'm so glad it did!
(I just noticed his cool new glasses.)
In these pictures we only see three different Camp Imadene shirts. (A red one peeking out the top of his zippered jacket.) I'm pretty sure he had one for every one of his 88 years. Since Imadene doesn't make button-up dress shirts with their logo, my Aunt bought him one for Christmas this year and had the name embroidered on. The man knew what's what in fashion, that's for sure.

Sharon, (my blog friend who I haven't even met yet, although we have several mutual friends and are even very remotely related) told me that his grandchildren were "his obvious joy". I was so proud when she discovered that the man she knew and loved from camp was my Grandpa, and she said that I was very blessed to be so.

I have many fond memories of Grandpa. Spending several school spring break vacations at their house with my sister, cousin, and sometimes a friend. He would meet us on the ferry with a tin of fresh peanut butter cookies. I always remember that when I eat them. They took us to the beach in Victoria and Beacon Hill Park even though Grandma was often not feeling well. They took us out for Chinese food. I remember the drive to Duncan, and I was worried that he was driving too close to the center line on the highway. From where I sat on the passenger side, it looked like he was way over. He assured me that he was doing just fine, but I just couldn't tell from where I was. I still think of him teaching me that lesson when I drive my own vehicle now.

I'll miss how he would say "right, right, right" when chatting with him. And how he'd never miss an opportunity to add a witty comment and a chuckle to a story being told.

I'll always remember how he would write "Thus." as an abbreviation for Thursday.

I'll miss teasing him about how long it took him to take his 10-minute nap.

I can stop reminding him to trim his fingernails.

I'll miss reading the exact same inscription on my birthday card every. single. year. "Yes, do have a good birthday." He usually signed it as Grandpa. Sometimes when writing cards or his Christmas letter, he'd get mixed up and sign it as Dad or Uncle Paul instead.

One of my proudest memories of Grandpa is that several of my friends' lives were blessed by time spent with him. Whether it was a spring break trip, or a quick afternoon visit, his sweet, quiet spirit warmed the hearts of everyone he met. He had a smile and warm hand hold for everyone he was introduced to. Everyone. Twice when I was near Duncan for other events or visits with friends, and I only had a very short time to spend, Grandpa joined us. The first time I took some friends over to his house for a visit, and we played a game of crokinole. Another time he came along to Tim Horton's with a group of our friends that we hadn't seen for a long time. Another friend of ours will remember Grandpa quietly murmering "tappy, tap, tap" while he tapped his domino on the table and considered his next move in a rousing game of Crazy Mexican Train.

I'll miss how he would quietly wave hello or goodbye by flapping his long-nailed fingers against the palm of his hand, with a slightly mischievous smile on his face. Almost like he had a secret. He was always just bursting to say a simple 'hello'.

He was a man of deep, deep faith in God. I never saw a sour look on his face. He loved every person in his life, and prayed for them too. He grabbed hands to hold and children to snuggle. Did this man ever get discouraged? I don't think so.

His eyes were always bright with optimism, but they are now more full of life than ever before.

Paul Mitchell Brammall
June 24, 1920 - February 19, 2009
You are loved, and you will be profoundly missed.