Sunday, June 1, 2014

up up up.



before i became much of a man, my grandfather was gone.

i used to write poetry. it was pretty terrible. and i would send it to my grandmother because she was a master of literature and teaching and she would read it to my grandfather, sitting by his side, at a very long table that used to feed so many hungry mouths, and he would get exasperated and exclaim, "there's just too much sex in it!"

i hadn't had any sex when i wrote any of that stuff.

later on, before i even graduated from high school, my grandfather was gone. he left before i became something more elegant and possessed of agency than a hormone-ridden accident of circumstance and micromanaging. he left before i could run. he left before i met the lady of my life. he left before that lady and i made and raised some sweet sweet children that he would have utterly enjoyed. cancer doesn't care about sweet cheeks.

this grandfather is one i think of often. he had many children. he had much bitterness. he had a hard time figuring out where he fit in a family he loved more than himself. he collected knives and grandchildren and sharpened both with care. he loved hunting. he loved the stories about it more. from this grandfather, i have my champagne taste, a quick temper, and an old seiko watch from the 80s. it may well be as old as i am, and it ticks by the kitchen sink, and blinks rapidly to let me know that its battery is nearly exhausted, and i left it there to do the dishes.

i have a grandfather that knows me now, and i wonder if there is much to be proud of. he knows my children, and welcomes them into his home and laughs at their hilariousness, and hugs them though he can no longer lift them. it seems now that he is the delicate one, that they are careful with him.

the lack of hair on my head, the blue in my eyes, the moles i get removed every few years from my freckled white skin, and my long fingers are from this grandfather. despite my champagne taste, i have joad family resolve, and my jalopy of dignity, however rickety, will make the trip. i got this from him.

there is no resolution here, no respite. onward and upward is the only way to go. struggle makes the most sense. there is no time to falter. the cheeks are still sweet.

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