Grandpa J

(St Peter’s Square November 2011)

Leaves fall, leaves lie, leaves will be the blanket for the trees if nature decides upon a white winter with snow dropping from the heavens.

You are the heavens,

father, Grandfather; you’ve seen us grow from baby to toddler, some toddler to child, some child to adult, some adult to parent,

you’re both the roots and the highest of the high branch tree tops sharing your love and knowledge to all in endless forms.

From music Mozart lover to triangle angle theorem proving Mathematician,

from (Crazy) Cyclist to peaceful painter to brainiac business leader,

from gardener with your greenhouse grapes to Economist captivating the finance enthusiasts and provoke(ING) curiosity amongst the newly engaged masses,

from Farmer with your rape seeds to lecturer addressing the nation,

from Carpentry with your dolls houses, to Tennis, croquet and laughs around the snooker table. 

We honour you.

I’ll forever attempt to practice the wise transferable skills taught in the Hele corridors where you shined light on left-hand teeth-brushing – to stimulate different brain cells to crisp packet picking on countryside walks.

~

What’s most remarkable is, in some form, all of the above continue at your age of 87 and yet you never whisper a word of pain.