Granddad
Not a whisker to be found. The low daily buzz of the morning electric razor smoothing out his face. Then he’d check with his chin on my cheek, was it soft enough?
Always a tie, and shoes that would have been polished and a softly fine striped shirt on Sunday, a twinkle in his blue eyes, always a twinkle.
Gently & kindly with a warm hand to hold my little one & then shake as we say goodbye and leave a golden coin and I’d still be surprised each time.
His stories, the naughty gnomes inspiring my dad. The lullaby of his voice and his sweet smell as he tucked us in, with a tic, tac, toe adventure to tell. These stories are magic to Mali’s ears now, cozied up with her Pa. Stories make stories and never grow old.
Hiding gifts all around the house so that over the weeks they’d be sought out, found. Quicker as the years passed until perhaps we’d arrive and barely give a hug before the many treasures hunt began. The dolly coat hook a fondly remembered one. Funny how some things just stay with us.
How grandparents have patience to watch made up show after show, my ice cream dolly Cabby & their Shoshona always on the go. Behind the sofa was back stage and i’d laugh and giggle as we brought live theatre to the living room, were you thinking ‘will this end soon?’ Their voices were so high pitched! Thanks for always attending with rapture.
It’s impossible to capture it all as we leave so many of the memories behind us and grow up & they fade. The encapsulated feelings are of love & generosity. I think of sneaky ice creams with a little wink, always picnics, rock shop trips, cold sea dips, bed sheet changing rooms on the beach, playing cards for hours on the pebbles, fish & chips stranded on the breakers at high tide, afternoon tea, strawberries and cream. So much delight, the world of grandaughters dreams.
Go gently Granddad, to the universe of stars, wrapped up in love from all of our arms.
Big hugs Chelle & Mali Xx
Chelle Parker
05/09/2024
