What I Would Have Done

When we were young we often visited my mother’s home country and we would always see her father. Her mother passed when she was eight. I was so young then, with the mind of a child, pure, innocent and untouched by reality. I don’t think I really understood the concept of ‘love’, as the traditionalist would describe it, but I always expressed it unpressured and protected from the onset of adulthood; expectation, conflict and insincerity.

My grandad was a truly good man. I would love hanging out with him. Nothing was more important. I remember watching television one afternoon when we were visiting and he was outside gardening wearing his beret. I remember him always buying my favorite cookies before I’d woken up in the mornings. I remember feeling extremely sad when we had to leave, or when he was visiting our home and the time came for him to leave. I would cry sometimes. It was hard to say goodbye.

Kids soon become adolescents, consumed with a whole new collection of trivialities, a new set of priorities intrude into their minds and consequences become little nothings. Some kids learn to guide themselves, some of us, not so much.

From time to time now, I visit my grandad’s grave and give unrequited apologies to a piece of stone – forever an unforgiving experience. In 2009 when he was visiting me in college with my family, my mother asked me whether I wanted to join dinner before my grandad left for the airport but decided that I had something better to do. It just happens, that I never saw him again.

We can’t be kids forever. I try not to lose sight of what is important to me now.

The Sum Of Its Parts

The Sum Of Its Parts

How Long Do We Keep Up This Charade?

How Long Do We Keep Up This Charade?