Wednesday, December 01, 2010


We said goodbye to my Grandpa Stewart today. Listening to others memories gave me a fuller picture of the man he was, stories I never knew to even ask about. It helped me appreciate him so much more. He was a brother, a soldier, a husband, a father, Scouter, a traveler, an active member in his church, and he was the Grandpa I knew and loved.

My Grandpa showed me the world, broadened my horizons, and listened to my endless chatter. He was one of the reason I love fantasy stories. I remember him reading them. I would ask him so many questions about the covers and plots and why he liked them. I’ve read many of the books I remember saw him read. It made me feel connected. And he gave me a love for adventures and travel. When I was little he was always telling about the places he had been in the camper van. I thought it had gone around the world.

In the summers when we lived in Ontario I would spend at least a week with my Stewart Grandparents. I remember taking a walk with Grandpa every day during those visits. It was when they still lived in Sarnia. We would walk around the bay to the marina, order a drink and I could have anything I wanted which was very important to me, I think I normally had a Shirley Temple because it made me feel grown up. I loved those walks. We’d talk about everything from the meaning of life to modern art. He listened to my pre-teen thoughts on how the world should be and shared his own advice and opinions. I don’t remember anything we said but we were together and it was good.

I remember after they moved to Hamilton Grandpa still found ways for us to have our “outings.” He took me so many neat places like the art museum, the ROM, the Toronto Zoo, and the botanical gardens. Side note: I remember this one time Grandpa took me to the botanical gardens; I was at least fourteen maybe even sixteen. He told the ticket girl entry from him and his granddaughter. I was standing right next to the screen. Grandpa got me for the price of a child…which the sign said were “under ten.”

Those are just a few of my memories of my Grandfather.

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