for my bubby

This is going to be the strangest birthday I’ve ever had. It’s tomorrow, by the time this post goes up, and I have a lot of reasons to think it’s going to be strange. I’ve had weird birthdays in the past, where both my parents were out of the country, and years where the oddest of an assortment of people were present (people tend to travel on and around my birthday). I thought it was going to be strange because I would be in America for my birthday for the first time since I was eight. Now it’s weird because I’ll be in Canada. But the truly strange part, the part that makes it hard to breath, is that my grandfather died on Sunday. 


Half of the goodbye events are on Friday and the rest on Sunday. It’s so weird. I’m flying back to Canada to say goodbye to my grandfather. It’s really weird, and uncomfortable, and I’ll not make sense of it for a long time to come. 


My grandfather was one of the best people of all time, he’ll ever remain one of my all time favourites even now. I can’t say he was a perfect man, because we are all subject to the world we live in, but he was a good grandpa. 


He gave the best hugs, because he always meant business when he doled one out. It was a bear hug, it stayed with you a long while after for one reason or another. He taught me to hug with enthusiasm and I’ll keep that with me. 


His laugh was unparalleled, if you’d heard it once you’d hear it for all your life. Just the sight of his joy filled face, forever immortalized in photographs, is enough for me to still hear the oh so specific sound of his laugh. He had the kind of laugh that took over his entire body, the joy absolutely demanding to be expressed and express his joy he would. It would often leave him pounding on whatever table was in front of him, and the sound of that would carry. I can't tell you the number of times I’d hear my grandmother respond to him with, “John!” It happened often enough that we all knew what she meant. 


My grandfather lived his life with enthusiasm, gusto, and a whole boat loud of love, all at an incredible volume. Seriously the man was loud, and I loved him for it, you couldn’t help but know he loved you. 


I will always love my grandfather, even as we now sit on opposite sides of heaven. I know he’s still laughing, clapping people on the back, and pounding tables to his hearts content, no longer having to worry if he’d bust them with his boisterous joy. 


So this year I may not really want to celebrate my birthday, even a little bit. But my grandfather loved all things sweet and would certainly be upset if I didn’t at least have cake. So cake it is. And I know next year when it comes around again, as birthdays do, I might still be of the sad side of things; but I know with time I’ll come to see it as one last thing I can share with my grandfather. Who is much loved and is much missed. 


I love you Bubby, and I promise to eat a slice of cake on your behalf. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

september 1st

September 1st, its the beginning of things. It’s the beginning of the end of the year. At least in my head September has always felt like the beginning of the end. I’m happy to know that the sweltering heat is nearly past and its almost sweater time. I like the fall, mostly because it feels like the rest before the rest, it feels like the closest to what my heart looks like, but partly I like the fall because I like the word falling.   This week I did what I could, which doesn’t look like much but I ate well and washed my face often and I tried.  I got back into the studio yesterday and was immediately overwhelmed. To start with my work space was a mess, as it has been for months, and finally yesterday was the day I couldn’t take it anymore and tidied up the table that serves as my workstation. It was probably 20 minutes of finding homes for things and trying to remember how I had had it organized in the first place. But it was 20 minutes well spent, because at end not eve...
Read more

Learning

Over the years I’ve learned many things about myself and how I function. For example: if I need to force myself to wash my face I put on make up, because I figured out that the need to not sleep in my make up supersedes my laziness. I’ve discover lots of what I call hacks in my own functioning. As I’ve written about before I grew up struggling with depression, so one of my biggest challenges, even when I don’t feel depressed, is to get motivated. So I’ve found some of my own personal quirks that I can almost trick myself into doing the healthy things instead of relying completely on motivation. This is also true when it comes to my art.   I’ve learned that I can’t sit in my studio for hours on end, the most productive and best work is done in the first and second hour. Anything more and I start to get too into my head. I also need to have somewhat of a plan before I even walk down the stairs. Otherwise I get overwhelmed just looking at all that I could do, or I start random proje...
Read more

Almost There

Nowadays it is the norm to go to collage or university even when you don’t know what you want to do. It’s preached go to school and figure it out while you’re there. It’s taught that your job is your life and it is all you really ought to try to achieve. Even as young as 14 this didn't sit right with me, I always dodged the questions. What do you want to be, what school do you want to go to, what would you like to do with your life. Because I learned from a young age that artist wasn’t the answer that they were looking for.   I learned to fly under the radar because I knew my dream would be easily crushed, but I am stubborn. So I did my best in school and then I made my great escape. Now almost five years later I am about 3 steps away from achieving what I set out to do.  I have about three things felt to do and then I will not just be an artist who makes things frequently, I will be one who sells these things too. I have an 8 painting series ready to be sold, and that is...
Read more