Today my Grandad would have turned 90. He was my mother's father and he's now been dead almost 5 years. Out of all my grandparents, he was the one I was closest to. He was a writer, an actor, an entertainer, a tireless charity worker, a devoted father and a hilarious grandfather. He is still the funniest smartest and most unselfish man I've ever known. A man full of intergrity and never a dull moment. There'd either be a recital of a poem he'd just written, a song, a shakespearean monologue or a story or a yarn to be told. He gave me my sense of humour, my love of theatre, writing and reading.........and being the life of the party. Grandad was primarily a comedian......us grandkids were always in stitches whether it be at Grandad or the shows he loved watching...the Goones, the Carry On films, the Two Ronnies, God Bless This House, George and Mildred, Hancock's Half Hour and Graeme Kennedy....the list goes on.
He was ecumenical long before it was fashionable and multi-cultural before any Anti-Racial Discrimination Act was tabled in parliament. We shared a close bond.......he knew and understood me more than anyone else.Sadly he spent the last ten years of his life in the brain fog that is dementia. The real man I knew and loved only made guest appearances in the tortured transition years that were my 20s. He was dead by the time I was 29. I have always felt that God took him at a time when I most needed him; the times when I was discovering my sexuality and what the hell I was supposed to do with it. I often wonder what his reaction would have been to my being gay; whether he would have been fine with it or not. I've always suspected that he knew anyway....that he always knew and that he was so ahead of his time that he wouldn't have had any hang ups about it anyway. I sometimes think if he were still around, that the strange polite emotional gulf that exists between my parents and I over my sexuality would be avoided. Not that my parents rejected me over my sexuality ...they just politely accepted it and have rarely discussed it since; a tactic I supported just as much as they did. As a result I never talk to my parents about boyfriends, past, potential or otherwise. I would have been able to have those yarns with my grandfather. Grandad used to always have a saying "Start off the way you intend to finish" and sadly I've never applied that to my parents when it came to my sexuality; I've always used the side door instead. Maybe one day I will use the entrance.
During the second world war Grandad got the nickname Buddy for his friendly nature and his ability to have a yarn with just about everyone. It was a nickname that he carried for the rest of his life. No one ever forgot him. And nor have I.
Happy Birthday Grandad. God Bless.
John B
John B
3 comments:
What a reminisce of the wonderful and memorable times with your grandfather. I so quickly have seen where you have obtained the traits you so exhibit in your own writings and prose. May you never forget! I am in that "same boat" with my parents.
What a lovely post. Thanks for this, Colin. :)
G'day! I just wanted to quickly say that I love your blog, and have given a link to you on mine. Keep up the great work!
Bodhi
Sydney, Australia
http://itssydneybitch.blogspot.com
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