Nearly 101

Today I told my mum I wouldn’t be sad if my dad died. I told her I would cry but I don’t think I would miss him. He heard every word.

I said it because my grandad had just died and my grandad was a special man. A simple, kind and loyal man. He was 10 days from turning 101 when he died. I missed his 100th birthday, I was not allowed to fly home due to the pandemic, but I video called him and spoke to his cheek with much joy.

I had seen him the year before and although he walked with a stick and held my arm, he was in good health and sound mind, still witty and still very racist. He came from a different generation, one that fought a war, one that didn’t get a tertiary education and one where family was everything.

One of eight children, he grew up sharing both a bed and a Christmas present with his three brothers. He lived before the wireless, he welcomed the landline and he never engaged with the internet. He fell in love, he married and had a family. He so dearly loved his children and provided them with what he had lacked.

He was already 70 when I was born and had already lived an impressive life. His wife, my grandma, died when I was only 7 and so I only really remember him living alone but I fondly remember our family holidays with him. The gates open ready for our arrival. A sloppy kiss on the cheek that as children we wiped away with our sleeve and as adults we relished. Each day was planned: some days were new adventures; some were favourite places; but most ended with an ice cream so large that dinner was often ruined.

All through my teens, he through his eighties, we visited him every holiday we could. Although these trips became shorter and a little less rigorously planned, they were still filled with happiness. He would pull the scrabble board out or suggest a game of pool and proceed to win every game–for such a gentle man, he intended for us to learn the importance of losing amicably.

As we got older his tolerance with long visits waivered, but his love for us never did. But as I crashed towards 30, he gently edged closer to his 100th and this loving and loyal man grew tired and looked forward to a much deserved rest. Five days ago we celebrated his life, we said goodbye to man that simply by being him made so many feel loved and grateful to have known him.

Today I told my mum I am sad that my grandad died. I told her I wouldn’t cry but I will miss him deeply. I hope he heard every word.