Dying seems less sad than having lived too little.Gloria Steinem R.I.P Bryan Durel
I was ten years old when Grampa Bryan died and it was the worst moment of my life. He was the warmest, sweetest man I ever met - always ready to bounce me on my knee, take me the ball game or tell me about the times from back then when he was my age growing up in Canada.
Grampa Bryan Durel never had a dad - he dies on the run from the police as his wife (who was pregnant with my dad) as they tried to escape into Canada). He literally grew up without a dad and his mom died when he was 8 of Tuberculosis.
The boys home he lived in afterwards was always cash strapped and at times they didn’t have more than one meal a day and food normally came from their vegetable garden and cooked into some sort of boneless stew. On a good day, they would have Oatmeal for breakfast. The warden of the boys home was a cruel taskmaster and he was prone to be at the receiving end of corporal punishment (many times most of the kids there would pin things for him because he was quiet).
What kept him together was faith and according to him the power of prayer, got him through more hard times than he can count. He still had his old Bible from those days and was buried with it.
When he turned 16, he left the boys home and hitchhiked the way back to Queens, New York in order to discover who he was and where came from. All he had was a picture of his parents and their names and by asking around he learnt that his parents were nothing more than petty criminals – a poor man’s version of wannabe Bonnie and Clyde (without any of the bells and whistled to go with it). According to old neighbors, they weren’t just criminals but “incompetent” ones too.
Incompetent was the first “big word” I ever learnt as a child.
He married my Grand Mother Marcia who he loved dearly. He had several children, amongst them was my dad, Henry, who did everything to spite him. When my grandfather said “Only a fool sticks his hand in fire!” after he had a brawl with a neighborhood thug when he was 19, he decided to become a Fireman. My father never knew he had and was never grateful for having a parent as amazing as Bryan Durel.
Grampa Bryan took me to my first game, gave me a sip of my first beer, took me fishing, taught me how to throw a football and most importantly be a good father and husband – and from what my mom told me, he even had read the bible to me hours after I was born. He even had me baptized and circumcised.
My mom, Gladys Durel always loved and appreciated the impact that Grampa Bryan had on our life. She even named my youngest brother after him (much to my father’s objection).
My brother, Bryan Durel is an amazing person. I sometimes think that Grampa Bryan passed on his amazing energies onto him after he passed and takes after him in every way. He’s soft spoken, creative, thoughtful and always helpful.
These are all the traits of Grampa Bryan.
I miss you Grampa!
