Warren Brady-A Tribute

"To the world you may just be someone, but to someone you may be the world"

Warren.  Brady.  Two words.  Just a name.  But a great, great man.  Some of my earliest memories are of being carried to the van early in the morning, so he could meet his carpool group to work.  I would sleep the whole way there and back.  Another early memory is punching him in the stomach.  He used to be a boxer, so when we were little he would let us punch him as hard as we could in the stomach, or should I say rock.

Grandma and Grandpa used to argue-nothing major, but once, when I was young, and knew everything, I was tired of it, so I suggested I could be the judge and decide on their argument.  The next time they argued about something grandma turned to me and said, "Well, Judge, who wins this argument?"  I really feel like they would have accepted my decision, but who wants to decide between Grandma or Grandpa?  Wanna talk about an uncomfortable situation to be in...I think I bowed out.  Claimed I didn't have enough information.  After that, I just let them go with their petty squabbles.

Grandpa had a cracked tongue...and false teeth.  And a "broken jaw."  He loved to show those to kids.  As I got older I enjoyed watching their horror at seeing teeth flip, or almost being being bitten when they felt for his jaw.  I was there once.  I remember being horrified myself.  And asking to see it again.  And he jumped.  When we were little and he came to our house, we would kiss him and he jumped.  I found out later, that he did that because they lived so far away from us.  We didn't remember him and didn't warm up to him until it was time for them to leave.  He realized he needed to do something that we would remember so it wouldn't take their whole visit to warm up to him.  It worked, and we couldn't wait for the next visit from the "jumping Grandpa."  

He was always working around the house or in the garage.  Usually on someone else's stuff.  He could fix anything-cars, lawn mowers, bicycles, Green Machines (ugh).  Sometimes he would actually bill people for it, tho I bet if you looked at the receipts now, you would find it was for the cost of parts and no or very little labor.  His labor was love.

The bus trip.  I don't know whose idea that was or how the whole thing came about.  If you were there, I don't have to say anything else.  If you weren't just imagine two people taking six grand kids ranging in age from 12-17 on a tour of the United States in a remodeled school bus.  Six weeks and over 10,000 miles later, we all wanted to kill each other.  A lesser man (and woman) would have failed-called it off.  But Grandma and Grandpa "herded cats" all over the United States, and I would say we are all better for it.

You may have noticed that a lot of memories of Grandpa include Grandma.  This is a couple who were never, in 68 years of marriage, separated.  Grandpa drove and Grandma navigated.  (I think that's where a lot of their arguments originated.)  When they arrived at our house, he would open the driver's side door and she was right next to him in the passenger's seat.  Occasionally, she would be in the back, putting away the snacks she had packed for this trip.  There was always something to eat when they arrived-graham crackers with frosting, peanuts and M&M's (they invented trail mix), vegetables, and PEARS...something.  They were a team, and to her, he was the world, I'm sure.

I remember other kids calling them Grandma and Grandpa.  I always had a problem with that, but I know now, they had enough love, and encouragement, and selflessness to be grandparents to the whole neighborhood.

He believed I could be President.  I told him when I was young that I could do a better job than the current president.  He asked me what I could do better.  He would discuss these things with me...not as a snotty kid, but as someone who could answer back.  I regret that I never really was able to hold my end of the conversation.  For years he asked me when I would be President.

The most important legacy Grandpa Brady left was his love of God.  He LIVED his faith.  He never had to beat anyone over the head with a Bible, he just lived his beliefs.  And he wanted everyone to know the source of his love.  He was a Christian, and I know he's home with the Lord now. I posted on Facebook that "I know things are perfect in Heaven, but I'm pretty sure there's a line of old bicycles up there just waiting for him to get to work on."  My cousin responded with, "those were people grandpa was working on, and not so much the 'wheels.'  Grandpa will be elated to see the drivers show up."  Truer words were never spoken.  He cared about people, and they knew it.

He was eighty-eight years old-two months shy of his 89th birthday.  He loved going to Florida for the winter.  If it had been up to him, he would have stayed year-around.  As it was, he compromised with Grandma and spent half the year in Michigan.  Just a couple years ago, he mentioned to my sister that they had to go to Florida, because if they didn't, who would take care of the old people?  They were always checking in on neighbors, driving friends to the doctor, and helping anywhere they could.

Forty years I have had the privilege and honor of knowing Grandpa Warren Brady.  It will be different to call Grandma and not have him ask about the weather, or what kind of gas mileage my car is getting.  It will be different to visit family and not have him poke me with the nearest blunt object and ask, "Do you get the point?"  It will be different to not end a phone call hearing him say "I love you."  We were so lucky to not have to watch him suffer at the end.  Two weeks ago, he was alert, smiling, and probably fixing something.  I will miss him terribly, but I am glad to know he's with God himself. My money is on a welcome banner that says, "Well Done!"

Warren Brady

Jan 4, 1924

Nov 5, 2012