My Papa taught me to be brave

Norman Henry Marshall, my Papa [grandfather], was a beacon of joy and love for our family. His laughter was deep and contagious. Papa was assured, kind and intentional. His steadfast love created a retreat for me in my teenager years away from trauma and distress. Papa always saw through the situations we were in or the bumps in the road to the beautiful uniqueness of each person. The love that beamed from his bright blue eyes called me out of fear countless times in my life.  

It is no surprise that he became the rock to my grandma, his five kids, their spouses, his thirteen grandchildren and his six great grandchildren.

My Papa was strong and resilient, in his incredible 85 years he overcame hardship, felt loss, and knew pain. He threaded through each difficulty with valor and kindness. My papa never spoke the language of defeat. Sitting in the living room in the old farmhouse, I remember watching him love my Grandmother. He could turn her tears into laughter by taking her in his arms and singing and dancing. He loved all of us that way. 

My Papa knew how to call us to bravery. He celebrated each one of my children’s births and mourned with me each of my miscarriages. It is hard for me to imagine welcoming my fourth baby in December without him. 

As he aged and his health deteriorated, his commitment to his family never did. We all loved to sit at the table with him and challenge him in crib. I loved how it felt when he would hold my hand. Papa was truly famous. There wasn’t a person he met who wasn’t made better by his existence. I believe you can tell a lot about a person through the reactions of little children to them. Kids loved Papa. My children still do. When I welcomed my eldest son into our family at three, shy and shaken from life’s transitions, Papa instantly became a place of comfort and joy for him. They would sit together in the big recliner and watch hockey games or nap. Papa was wise with his words but even wiser in his silence. He had a way of sitting with us long enough that we could hear God’s little nudges in our hearts. He told me he loved me countless times every day, and the sincerity was always piercing. Papa showed all his family what love was in action. I am forever changed and better because of my Papa. 

The role of grandfather was one that he took with pride. In a time when the role of the man is constantly under scrutiny he lived a life of masculinity that anyone could support; he showed he was strong in his willingness to be gentle, he led from a place of humility, he loved selflessly, always giving of himself without the need for notice. It was easy and comfortable to count on Papa. I miss him constantly. May all his kindness be returned to him as he rests in the peace of the Lord’s love. ​

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Written by Amy Heggenstaller-Boon, St. James Parish in Okotoks

† Norman Henry Marshall