On Saturday Night, my grandfather Jim MacMichael passed away. Jim was my grandfather on my mother’s side. Jim was born on June 18, 1921 in Gays River, Nova Scotia. In fact, he was my step-grandfather, but as my grandmother and him were married before I was born, Jim was always my “Papa”.

My first memories of him were at their farm on Gladwin Road. At a very tender age I immediately thought he was cool because he had a farm and a tractor, and nothing is cooler when you’re young than a man with a tractor. He taught me how to drive that thing up and down the long driveway, to the berry field and back. He was always working on something on the farm, but he’d always take the time to show us kids what he was up to.

In the barn, he had a poster of a man flushing himself down the toilet with the caption, “Goodbye Cruel World”. I always thought that poster was funny, until one day I came to the barn and the poster was gone. Papa said that he’d finally done it, and flushed himself. I was dumbstruck. The barn was a place where real magic happened for me, and Papa made those memories that last a lifetime.

We are not often aware of the impact we have on the life of another. I’ve been reflecting on how his love and example have affected my life. Papa was the first guy I know to have an office in his house, and on his office wall was a map of the world. To this day, I still have a map of the world on my office wall. Papa was the first guy I knew that had a satellite dish, and he would show me how he could get television signals from all over the world. This was endlessly fascinating for me. The day he died I was working on Hockey Night in Canada. Little did he know that the kid he was teaching how to use his satellite would end up on arguably the biggest show in the country. Now that I have a child of my own, I look forward to her having those experiences with our friends and family.

I last saw him on Super Bowl Sunday when my Dad and I went out for a visit. His health was failing, but he was in great spirits. We talked about the War, the bombing missions he flew over Germany as a kid of barely 20. It was the first time we really talked about it, about being that young and scared to death. He asked about his great-grandchild Hannah, excited to hear how she was growing and developing. We both knew it was going to be one of the last times we saw each other. He told me about the past, and I told him about the future. What he had done in his life paved the way for my life, and the lives of my children. And that by any measure, is a life well led.

Goodbye Papa.