This is a tribute to me grandparents Brian and Rita Walsh. It takes special people to love like angels. Nan was born on December 25, so she really was me angel. I was 3 when me mother died from cancer. My father asked them to help him care for his only son. They should have been both retired and enjoying life, yet they said yes. Me father was working out of province so was on the island only part of the time. So we went to live with them in Colliers. Nan was not wanting to punish me when I did wrong. As she said, “What more punishment could she do to a little boy who lost his beloved mother so young.” So she would hide me stuffed rabbit and threaten to burn him until I behaved. It was common for nan and me to be together all the tie. We would walk to the trout pond together often. she taught me to clean fish with a pair of scissors. Pop taught me I could do anything I wanted to by putting nay doubt “out of my mind.” At 4 Pop had me holding one end of the ladder fully loaded with wood. we walked it into the house to the stove. Nan was afraid of fire and never wanted to talk about it. she would put out the stove every night, no matter how cold outside. I counted nail heads covered with frost instead of sheep to get to sleep. Nan loved bingo on Sunday’s. no matter how sick she felt, the closer to the hour the bingo bus was stopping outside their door step, she got better. one year at Christmas the door prize was a Cabbage Patch Doll. Nan won the doll and had to fight off other ladies to bring it home to me. I still have it. Nan and Pop never learned to drive and tolerated me motorcycles from a early age. Pop died when I was 18. When I moved out west for work I never missed a day when I talked to her on the phone. one day the cafeteria lady at Firebag was furious that I refused to shut off me phone. Finally I sad to her that me Nan wanted me to pass her a message. The message was that this was the only time her Carli was able to talk to his grandmother. There’s a 3 ½ hour time difference and that we had not missed a day yet in all the years of him being out west. After that the cafeteria lady was silent and let me finish me call. Nan could sleep after talking to me at night, but not before. When I met Charmaine, Nan was glad to see that she didn’t have to worry about me. Charmaine even phoned her too. It was the highlight of both their day’s. They never met face to face but they are so much alike and just 2 peas in a pod. Nan liked her a lot. Nan lived on her own until she was 93 and then she went into the Hoyle’s Escasoni Complex in St. John’s. We talked each day until due to her dementia we couldn’t. Nan knew that I was not wanting to have me final memory of me second mom to be one of a hospital bed and her dying in me arms. so when she took sick she hung on long enough to know I was coming home. She took her last breath just as me foot touched the step of the Hoyle’s Home. She didn’t want me to see her suffer. Nan was 2 months short of her 99th birthday. I was the last baby she raised and she will be missed more than words can be said. We love you Nan.   Submitted By: NULL