Quicklinks:
|
Great Writing - Home > Non-Fiction > For The Dead
| READING ROOM | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
| COMMUNITY | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
| ABOUT GREAT WRITING | ||
|---|---|---|
|
| WORK AWAITING REVIEW |
|---|
|
| GW IS... |
|---|
|
Great Writing creative writing community is designed to prompt ideas
and provide inspiration and motivation within aspiring and amateur
authors. Whatever your topic; from love poetry to Doctor Who or Harry
Potter fan fiction, Great Writing's online writing group is where you
can make new friends and improve your creative writing. |
| WHO'S ONLINE |
|---|
| We have 1362 guests online and 2 members online |
Non-Fiction
| print friendly version | |
| For The Dead | |
| By Nick | ||||||||||||||||
| 18 July 2008 | ||||||||||||||||
|
It's just been one of those days. My family was never that big. Our immediate family consisted of 9 people. 2 sets of grandparents, my mum and dad, my older sister, my brother and then me, the baby of the bunch. No Aunties or Uncles and just some vague distant cousins in foreign lands. Over the years that group of 9 has dwindled to just 4. In the 30 years of my life I have lost 5 members of my family. Not unusual but not altogether usual either. The first to go was my grandmother on my mum's side. She died from Cancer when I was only 3 years old. I have no memories of her and only pictures to tell me what she looked like. There was a gap of about 10 years, then my sister died. An allergic reaction to a Peanut. It closed her throat tight and let her suffocate. I've always found that a little fucked up. I was 14 at the time. It hurt. Next on the list was my grandfather on my dad's side. He had Alzheimer's. His memory was slowly erased until there was nothing left and the ones he loved didn't exist. Then a few years after that my mum got Breast Cancer. They said she'd gone into remission but they missed some. Spots on her liver killed her. That one hurt too. Finally my grandfather on my mum's side died. He was quite ill with various conditions. Several would've killed him eventually. To this day I'm not actually sure which one did. Now there are only 4 of us. My Gran on my dad's side, she is 90 this year and still as feisty as hell, my dad, who is re-marrying this year, and my older brother, who spends most of his time travelling around the world for his job and then there is me. There's nothing to say about me, I am who I am and I'm happy enough with that. Now I'm not really here to tell you about the sad parts of my life, the above is only half the story, I'm here to tell you what happens when you lose someone you love. Most of you will probably already now and really don't need to read any further. For those of you who don't know let me tell you. Forget about all the crying and sorrow, sympathy and condolences. That will pass quite quickly. What will haunt you for a lifetime are the reminders. Those things that you hear or see that make your chest want to cave in with renewed feelings of loss. These small things will be personal to you and no-one else. Everyone is different and it's always different things for the different dead. It's made even worse by the fact that they just creep up on you. Maybe your just watching T.V or in the pub with your friends and something will just remind you of the ones you've lost. It always hurts but you just have to get on with it. The worst one I have is for my mum. When I was younger we use to read a lot of similar things. Mainly horror and crime/thrillers (although I never read all the chick-lit stuff!) and when I was buying a book I would always think “would mum like this?”. I don't really read too much of that stuff now – it all gets a bit boring after awhile but I still buy the occasional one in the supermarket or at the airport. Every time I do buy one, I always have the same thought “will mum like this?”. She's been dead for several years now but thought always pops into my head and when it does all the feels of sorrow and loss come flooding back. I have a few more things that remind me of my mum and I have several things that make me remember my sister. A couple of songs from the late 80's, Ford Fiesta's (Mark II) and any time someone shouts at me, trying, in some form, to chastise me. This always reminds me of when our parents would go out and my sister was in charge. We would run riot and she would try to assert her authority but we'd all end up laughing our asses off. She could never do it. The first couple of sentence would come out then she would just burst out laughing. Maybe not that funny to someone reading this but it always made me laugh. What got me writing this was actually a reminder of my grandfather from my dad's side. To be honest I was always closer to him than my other grandfather but that was more circumstance than anything. It's not too often I am reminded of him but just every so often, almost like he was watching over me and just gently reminding me to remember him. Okay I don't really believe in that but hell you never know. Today the reminder was my car. That sounds a little strange but I have my reasons. When I was 17 my granddad gave me the money to buy my first car. Funnily enough it was a Ford Fiesta (Mark II). I'm still not sure if this was because that's what my sister drove or just cause they were affordable. Anyway, every time I buy a new car I'm always reminded of my granddad and my first car. He was the one that gave me the car and the independence you get with it. Every car I will ever buy will have a small part of him with it. Stupid yes but it's my stupid and I like it. I picked up my new car from the dealers today and along with the excitement of getting something shiny and new (well new to me – can't actually afford to buy a brand new car!) it's tinged with sadness. I can feel the loss, but not too much, just enough to make me remember. On a similar note, one of my favourite things in my house is a picture I have of my granddad. It doesn't really act as a reminder like the other things, probably cause I see it everyday. The picture was taken during world war II. He was in the R.A.F (Royal Air Force) and when the picture was taken he was stationed in Egypt. He's sitting in the desert with a couple of his buddies and his plane's in the background. I got this picture blown up to poster size, had it framed and put on my living room wall. Now any time someone's in the house they always ask “cool picture – Where did you get it?”. I always take great pride in saying “That is my Granddad, in Egypt, during WW2, fighting for our freedom.” Corny yes, but it always makes me proud. And here ends my thoughts on the dead.
Only registered users can rate and write comments. Powered by AkoComment 2.0! |
||||||||||||||||
Next item
|
|---|