A Stones Throw Away...

The saying goes that a picture is worth a thousand words. This I've found is true. It's hard to write next to this man...I feel my words can't... well they just can't. It would be easier not to try, it would be easier to stare endlessly at the warmth that surrounds him, but he is important and the only way to explain is to use my words.

My Grandpa and I were born with a connection, with invisible string our hearts were tied together and as he lived to a ripe old age there were many memories made.

He lived just a stones throw away from us and it only took a 10 minute bicycle ride to reach his place. I would arrive to find him tinkering in the shed solving many a problem using his hands and the endless bits and bobs that surrounded him. I loved that about him, that he didn't need to buy a solution, he made one.

He made a cracking coleslaw and a mean fricassee, he wore an apron to hold the pegs while hanging clothes on the line, he drank a freshly squeezed lemon every morning to help keep him young and danced and danced for as long as his legs would let him.

Since I was a little girl I have marched proudly wearing his medals with eyes full of tears and my head held high. He didn't understand why I was so proud of him. He wasn't on the front line, he didn't even hold a gun. But when Darwin was bombed and they lost their radar he was one of a small group of men that worked day and night to get the new one built and on it's way. He did this through most of the war, kept the soldiers connected. That is worth your medal and it's worth my pride.

Just short of 2 years ago he had a fall at home and the trip to the local hospital brought bad news. Hip was shot and heart was weak - he won't be going home, if he pulls through he'll be in a nursing home. It was evident a few days later that the nursing home would not be needed.

I had never faced death before, not like that, not there is front of me. 

So I just stood in front of the door to his room, hesitant to enter and helpless.But the string, the string tied to his heart pulled me in, and I sat with him hand in hand, heart with heart.

He died later that day... after I had left the room. I knew that he wouldn't let go until I had.

Seeing him afterwards was an experience that can't be written, it was very silent but comforting as well. Tears fell like heavy raindrops yet I was happy. After all these years he would be able to look into his wife's eyes and show her that he had learnt to dance too. Now they can spend eternity together, waltzing around the stars.

I have kept many things including his War Medal, and when I miss him I tinker with all the wonderful little treasures that made this man my Grandfather. How honoured I am to have been a part of this gentleman's life, to be his Granddaughter, to know his story and to have heard his wisdom filled words.

As your birthday approaches, Australia Day, I'm glad I have these memories - they make you feel just a stones throw away x.