85396479
DECEMBER 2ND
Today is my parent’s wedding anniversary. Happy Anniversary Mum and Dad! 35 years of being married… They do it very well. I love the fact they’re still in love. I’m a lucky kid in oh so many ways.
2nd December is also the anniversary of my grandfather’s death. He died 6 years ago tonight.
It was at around 11pm from what I can remember. We’d been at the hospital for hours. 9 of us. Dad had called me at around 10.30 in the morning at work.
“You’d better come darling. Quickly.”
They put me in a cab. I was convinced it was all going to be over by the time I made it home…
We sat around, stroking his face and laughing at his old jokes. We ate really disgusting sandwiches, and drank strong, hot, metallic tasting stuff they claimed was tea. The nurses were nice, but the smell was not. My brother took him through the Last Rites.
I drove my sister and my cousin Suzy home at around 10. They said it was nearly time and we didn’t need to be there. I’m glad. When they all came home at around 11.30 I felt numb. I couldn’t cry right then, even though I felt I should.
I loved my grandpa oh so much. He had lovely hands that were so soft, the skin on the back of them paper thin. His fingernails were flat and ridged and he always got really painful cracks on the tips of his fingers in the winter. My mum gets them now. He loved sherry and Dairy Milk chocolate. If we went out to get the paper, us holding on to his hand and looking up at him, he’d make out like it was a big secret that we were let in on. “Lets get some chocolate!” he’d hold his finger up to his smile, mouthing “shhhh…” we’d raise our shoulders and giggle. A conspiracy…
He taught me to waltz. Standing on top of his feet, around and around their living room.
He sang all the time: A suitable quote from a song that fit the situation; a list of what he was doing at the time; any thought that popped into his head; or just nonsense. He always looked smart, even doing the gardening. His flat cap sat at a jaunty angle. He’d place the cap on his head and then tilt it to the left… just so.
He fell asleep. Alot. Once when he was a kid he fell asleep at church, in the middle of the sermon. When he woke up with a jolt he couldn’t remember where he was so burst into a spontaneous round of applause. Not good.
His stories were legendary. As the eldest of 7 kids there were some to tell… Uncle Philip and the tin of peaches, Uncle Arthur’s trousers and the passing train, the Flying Angel and the washing line. Stories of a tough but golden time.
He was funny and kind, gentle and sweet. He liked to give affection, but felt awkward at the same time. He’d hug you, but have to punch you on the back while he did it. He’d tell you he loved you, but consult the imaginary ‘little black book’ he kept up his sleeve first. “Do I love you? well… lets see… what day is it? Wednesday? yes I definitely love you”
Recent Comments