A Toast to Grandpa Don

We were having a discussion with Ross the other day about my dad – Grandpa Don, and Ross said that he really didn’t really remember him. We were thinking about it and trying to figure out when Grandpa Don died.

I remember vividly getting a call from Andrew Cameron, my brother in-law who never calls us. It was a Friday night at around 18:00 just before we were leaving to play softball for “The Team”.  When I asked who it was, Marina said “Andrew Cameron” to which I replied … “Andrew Cameron … who died?”   Truer words have yet to be spoken.

After a cry we decided to go play ball … no use being maudlin, and we dealt with it through the next days, weeks and months.

I was in a terrific place with my dad. I had nothing that I wish I had told him that I hadn’t… and there was nothing between us that I wish I could take back. I sorely miss his advice as I could always count on him to give me the unvarnished truth.

I regret that he did not live long enough to see our adventures on Tara. I am sure he would have said “FANTASTIC!” a favorite word of his. I am also sure he would have been very proud of the awesome people our kids have grown into and every once in a while I think about him – when we are on a longer passage or overnight when I think how cool it would be if he could have experienced this with us. I am sure that he would have really enjoyed the sailing and handling of the boat.

He was born in 1935. Don died when he was 72. If he were alive today, he would be 81… so by my calculations he died 9 years ago today. You know when they say time heals all wounds … some of them remain a little raw.

Cheers to you Grandpa Don … wish you could be here with us today.