things i miss

about my grandad.
bake
mauby
how he would try (both of them did this) to hook me up with food before i flew out of the house on mornings (after the prayerline, or during the prayerline he would make spaghetti and vegetables or put a bake in the oven. it wasn't creative, but it was nourishing....and it saved me hundreds of dollars in food money)
the "ssht ssht" sound of his slippers in the hallway
the random days when he'd bust out his goose step from the police training days
the stories about "The Old Man" and "my Mother" (i never knew the actual names of his parents until we had to fill in his death forms)
the always happy greeting for me "how's my Sunshine Girl?"
the fanaticism about serna and venus, and tiger, and any other black person who happens to do exceptionally well at anything
the attempts at cooking - mashed potatoes, soup with provision cut too big, shake and bake chicken (that was a good year)
the stories of his walks all over scarborough
actually the animated way he recounted ANY story of a good time - his eyes would light up
the regular inquiries into first my school progress and my relationship with teachers and profs, then my teaching progress and my relationship with my students, coworkers and admin
the strong singing and even stronger whistle
the busted, but self-taught! piano playing
the fanatic photography with that camera that was older than me (hard to find pics of him for the funeral that were from the 80s and 90s cus he TOOK all the pictures then)
the sketchy disagreement/throwdowns we would have when we disagreed
the lengthy random chats he would have with my guy friends who came over - first chris, then kelvin (sorry kelvin, i dont think he liked you the first time around)
his habit for saying hi to all... to everyone in the building and his penchant for speaking kindly to all children in the building
the hat (which we have hanging on the wall)
the proud, strong stride (which tarik, mom and i had fun immitating last year)
the voracious reading... of EVERYTHING (if i didn't leave the TT papers open on my laptop, the planets would come out of alignment) - he REALLY liked to be well-informed]
his hustling skills at selling reliv
his knack for being calm when everyone was freaking out (which is mirrored by his tendency to pitch a fit when it was convenient)
his 30 hour graces during which he would ask for blessings on everyone in the room, one by one, and then bless all their relations
his insistent belief that he knew what was best for Gran
the slow, sometimes shifty smile
the look of love in his eyes for osheayanna

i think he was in denial. he would say that he was "sick" not dying. but he never complained. he always called gran every day. i feel a bit bad because i didn't realize he was getting much weaker and i would help him the way i usually helped gran - by insisting on whatever independent activity they had the strength to do. so i could have helped more than i did.

i dont know if i'll ever watch tennis again.

this would count as my grieving i guess. e-grieving. this is some of the stuff that i think about when i lie down to sleep. because here there are no distractions, no other worries. just me and my thoughts (and the mould! i wonder what he'd have to say about that!)

its just an unsettled feeling that things aren't quite right in my world. that things have changed dramatically.

he was not a saint, but he was a pretty decent guy to me.

i'm sure there will be more e-grieving in the future. maybe about what i learned.