Edward R. GIESBRECHT

Dear Aunt Kay and family - you and Uncle Ed were so much a part of our growing up in those early, fun years in Vancouver. I will never forget those late Saturday nights with you and my folks playing Canasta. I don't know how we all managed to get up for church on time the next morning :) Those were simple times...but good times. I remember the laughter of those evenings while you and the folks played cards and reminisced. Those are good and cherished memories. My thoughts and love are with you - and I pray that there is always someone near to give you a hug when you need it. Much love.

MY TRIBUTE TO MY DAD, ED GIESBRECHT
I love my dad, but he wasn't always the easiest to get along with. As apples don't fall far from the tree, I know I'm not either, so when iron sharpens iron, there's friction and sparks sometimes fly. But even iron gets oil and soft cloth to hone its sheen, and dad, as everyone knows, also had a huge, compassionate heart. This is my wonderful remembrances of things we did together, individually and as a family. As there are many, I'll just try to keep to the highlights.
My first remembrances of dad are when we were on 33rd Ave. in Vancouver. Those were simpler days. I'd often run to the big window in the house looking to see when he got home. But when he did, mom would always let me know and I'd run with anticipation to see him coming up the walk from the car. I'd go run and hide and he'd come find me. What a great game. I screeched with delight when he found me and he'd lift me up and tickle and hug me to my great joy.
I also remember going on many camping trips with many of mom and dad's various friends, some of you are here today in this room. I had my first angling experience at this time. This term will be defined a little later.
In 1965, when I was seven, we left Vancouver and went to the Prairies for dad to study to become a Pastor. I hated that I had to leave school friends and extended family when I was just young, but the Lord's calling doesn't discriminate. Everyone learns new things and carves a new life. Travelling in that little red Corvair held many special memories and we've often harked back to those special trips joking about who had to have their feet in the yellow mop bucket squeezed behind mom's seat. Mom also made those trips special with games we played. I think our favourite was the alphabet game, finding letters in sequence from A to Zed. Even though dad was driving, he won most of those matches, although the rest of us all had our moments of glory.
When it came to winning at matches, we as kids knew we had to do our best because dad wouldn't just let us win. I found out the hard way when we were in Winterpeg at MBBC and he and some of his fellow students built and played on a full size snooker table. And dang, did he wipe the table with me the first dozen or so times. But when I finally did win, I knew I had won fair and square. Same went for tennis when we were back in Vancouver living on Balmoral, a block from Keith's school where we often played when we all had free time.
Ahhhh, the wanderlust! I guess I got it from my dad. The miles, that's old English for kilometers for you younger folk, we covered between Vancouver and Saskatchewan, Saskatchewan and Vancouver. And then between Portage la Prairie and Winnipeg. And then between Beechy and Lucky Lake. Well, those were special times too. But let's leave these and focus on more intimate times.
The vacation excursions we made were long with the miles we travelled, but always rewarded with great treasure at the end of the road. North Dakota, South Dakota, Butte mine, the Great Presidents at Mount Rushmore with a side trip to the Passion of Christ play where there wasn't a dry eye in the audience because it felt so real. Our trip to Salt Lake City where we saw the Great Salt Lake and toured the Mormon Tabernacle and heard their magnificent choir give the best rendition of Oh Canada I have ever heard. Even the people we had waited in line with, from Winslow, Arizona, Eagles' fans will catch the reference, stood with us to honour our country. The week we spent in Bountiful a few miles out of the city was a very special time.
But probably two of my most memorable times were going with dad on one of his mail runs from Saskatoon to Winnipeg, and back, during one summer vacation. That must have been in 78 before I moved back to Vancouver. I got a real sense of the hours that dad put in for US, helping us make ends meet. Driving a truck has got to be one of the most difficult jobs a person can do, other than being a pastor. Away from the family for days or weeks on end. I remember those days he was away when we were in Saskatoon and he was driving up in northern Saskatchewan to Manitoba. Hard days for us, but what must it have been like for him? Okay, philosophizing done, for now.
The other great trip we did together was the fishing trip we did in commemoration of me graduating high school. His good friend, Bob Falkner, a minister from some other church, which obviously must be heretic because it wasn't Mennonite Brethren, good jokes they always traded, was in Lac la Ronge, and we drove up and stayed with him and his family. Mr. Falkner had a little 14' aluminum boat and he took us to different lakes that week we were there. Of course, it became a contest of who caught the biggest fish and who caught the most. Unfortunately, my lack of experience on the net denied my dad the biggest fish, with me winning that title, but he'd caught the most! One of the evenings, we saw a Peter Sellers film, The Party, I don't think we had ever laughed so hard, ever, especially at the birdy num-num part. The next day when we were coming back from fishing, yes, we caught fish, so we weren't angling, the wind had whipped up the lake and there were many large waves that were coming over the bow and just SOAKING us to the bone. We didn't care, somehow we just said, BIRDY NUM-NUM' and roared with laughter all over again.
Dad and I also took an aerial tour of the area with a pontoon plane. A most exhilarating and eye-opening experience. My dad had long known from our many road trips that the bird-brain', as he lovingly referred to me, that I would love to soar like an eagle and see the sights, and granted me that wish then. That was a most special trip. It wasn't long after that I moved back to Vancouver and a year later mom and dad followed me. We had many special times back in Vancouver again, most of them after I left on my ESL teaching career. Going to Spanish Banks with a bucket of chicken. Going to the Richmond fore-shore across from the airport to watch the planes, where mom and dad would go to watch me head back to whichever country I was working in next after dropping me off from an all too brief vacation. But our favourite, I would have to say, or mine anyways, was going to Mike's Point, as I always call it because I can NEVER remember the right name. We'd eat Paco's fish and chips and I'd feed the seagulls my chips, totally against the posted sign. One time as I was feeding the seagulls, I saw one of them being so brave and coming so close to me, so I had the crazy idea that it would take the chip right from my hand. I held it in my hand and waited patiently. Dad had my camera. The bravest seagull, maybe Jonathon Livingstone's progeny, came down and grabbed that chip from my hand and dad caught that special moment in a photo for me. Birdy num-nums, daddy. Birdy num-nums.
I was fortunate enough with my present company to come back home last month to see my dad. It was a truly difficult time. I was very happy to be here for my mom and be with my dad. It was a wonderful mutual support. But we had known this was coming since 2010. I cancelled my last summer's vacation plans to Tanzania and Zanzibar to be with mom and dad after mom posted dad's 2014 birthday photo. I assumed then, yes, dad, as you always like to say, Never assume, because it makes an, ahem out of both you and me.' Well, not this time, eh? It was good to be with you. There's always next year to explore Africa.
While I was home last month I had the privilege to speak to many people who called the house giving their encouragement and condolences. On my own Facebook I've had over a hundred well wishes from colleagues, close friends and old students. My father has been a very influential man in his life. Yes, we all have some negatives, but GOD is good and also gives us the grace to have a huge positive impact as well. Unfortunately, many times we as humans only focus on the negative. But, fortunately, Christ's blood covers our blotches. Which makes a better world?

Condolences and our prayers to the family. Ed brought many a smile and a laugh to me and the Minoru pool friends, such a lovely man. May God's strength be with the family.
Adrienne Kennedy Qualicum Beach [ formally of Richmond.]