Sunday, February 10, 2008

Buckling down

Or as my son’s game seems to call it ‘digging in’.

My grandad died a couple of days ago. Such a bald statement to convey every state of grief, guilt, pain, and worry I have, but its all I have to explain it.

Yesterday, we went for a walk – and I was thinking about everything my grandad taught me – he used to grow vegetables and flowers in his garden, and I have many fragmented, flash memories of those beautiful mornings and afternoons, when I was fairly young, running around his garden. Of course, my memories seem to also include fairies at the bottom of his garden, but mom said he used to hide cut-out flower fairies along his fence when I was very small, so that makes sense. Seemingly, he also gave me other things – or at least, he and gran did. Gran died just over 20 years ago, and since the, grandad has been kinda…lost. I understood why, even at 9 and 10, but there was very little I could do. As I grew older, he seemed to pull away – whether I reminded him, a bit of gran, or because we all grew a bit distant when I hit my teens, I’ll never know, but by the time I started a family of my own, I wasn’t seeing him much. And I feel sad about that. Its funny – we never think they’ll leave us, that we’ll have ‘tomorrow’ to fix it all – to say all of the things we want to say. Tomorrow is an excuse. It might sound harsh, but I always said ‘I’ll call tomorrow’ and never do. I always say ‘I’ll write tomorrow’ and get through my Uni work, and then go and goof off. I always say ‘It can wait’. Friday night made me realise that some things just can’t wait.

Yesterday, I was fairly subdued. My partner has never met my grandad – and now, I realize, he never will – so we went for a walk, and on our way back, on my door step, I found a spouting conker. I know it wasn’t there when we left, and we have a walled garden, so goodness knows how it got there.

Now, though I have a conker tree in my front yard called Bill. After my grandad. For the happy memories.

I stopped writing though, for anything other than university, about six weeks ago, and today, I’m going to try buckling down. I’m not sure whether I ‘believe’ in writers block, personally (though, yes, I believe others can ‘have’ it) but I know something is stopping some of my writing. I’m going to try to bulldoze it first before anything else. I’m hoping, like the tree I planted for my grandad, I can make something of my life, and honour him, and the rest of my family for all of the things they invested in me.

1 comment:

Serenity Now! said...

Sorry to hear about your grandad, Kai.

No matter what age or that we all know that we eventually die... it doesn't make it easier. I'm glad you have fond memories of him!