April 18, 1934 – August 19, 2011
Born April 18, 1935 Karachi, India (modern day Pakistan).
Died August 19, 2011 Oliver, BC.
Andy was born the 7th child of 8 to Motiram and Rukmani Advani. He suffered the death of his mother at age 6. His father remarried in 1942, and had 4 more children, making Andy one of 10 surviving siblings.
He contracted typhoid at 12, missing most of a year of school and needed to learn how to walk again. Around the time of Partition, 1947, the family moved to Bombay and then to Pune.
He took his Bachelor of Science with a major in Chemistry and his Bachelor of Law at the University of Bombay. He jumped at the chance to come to Canada, arriving in September of 1959 at age 24. He pursued his education, obtaining his Masters of Law from the University of Toronto.
After graduating in 1961, he was told to “go west”, and being the adventurous soul he was, did. He began practicing law in Lacombe in November of 1961 and articled for Don McCormick of the firm McCormick and McCormick.
In the same building worked Lois Waterman, whom he asked on a date when she came to see him for a legal matter. They married in India on February 4, 1966. Andy was soon the happy father of Scott Gotam, born in 1968. Sabrina Seeta joined the family in 1970, Shauna Katherine in 1976 and Stacey Anne in 1978.
Andy became senior partner of Advani, Rose, Rumbles and Cruickshank and was later appointed to the Queen’s Counsel in 1980 at age 43. He lived with and was treated for the cancer, which too soon took his life, from 2005 to 2011.
These are the details of his life but fail to express the essence of a man whose presence could hold a room. He loved making the law understandable, working so hard that evenings and weekends often saw him dictating at the kitchen table or going into the office, but somehow he seamlessly wove his family life into his business so he never felt lost to us, his office being like a second home.
He relished fatherhood, enjoyed entertaining, dancing and the wonderful things in life. He always walked on the outside of the sidewalk and held open our doors.
Still dearly missed, thought of and treasured every day . . . too marvelous for words.