No pictures this week I think

Hello faithful readers. My apologies for a tardy post but the unexpected issues, and sometimes the expected concerns, get in the way of progress. I also just do not feel in the mood for posting pictures. I feel the wish to write. Now, I doubt I will express any fear inducing emotions and I hope to avoid the pitfalls of pity.

It is half two in the morning, I am not tired, I am not hungry, I am not upset, I am listening to Steve Earle twang, I have books to look forward to, I recently chatted with my mom, the Blue Jays are winning, I suppose in short, I have found some sort of contentment. It takes so little in the end, I suppose.

I am aware it will not last. Tomorrow (Well, today), shall have its worries, its falls, its rips, its food stains, its electricity depletion, its corporate discounts and its beleaguered news.

Wahoo...anyone still reading?

So my Grandfather Gillis died a short time ago. I went to seem him in the hospital a day or so before. To tell you the truth I had no wish too. When my Uncle Doug died I did not go to the wake. When my friend Rene died I never once looked at his body at the wake. I simply have no wish to...witness that state of the human body. With them all I wanted to remember a moment in time when they and I were happy together.

With my Uncle Doug, it was at the camp by Parlee Beach. I was lying in the hammock eyes shut thinking I was sleeping when Uncle Doug came along and flipped me out, taking my place. I would then attempt with all my strength to take it back. My Uncle would be laughing the whole time which always got me laughing. I ended up sitting by the tree trunk.
He died from an allergic reaction to a bee sting.

With my friend Rene, it was at Jane Dykeman's camp in Kingston. We would all 'sneak' up there (All twenty of us) as her parents were not supposed to know. We would be sitting around the kitchen table and Rene would stand up, beer in hand, wearing a down vest and a t-shirt (Typical Canadian garb, found on nowhere else in the world) and point to me and try his darnedest to get a laugh. 'Alright Gillis, here is one...'. I remember that most, whether I laughed or not, he never gave up, always had another one to try.
He died from hypothermia in the Bay of Fundy.

My Grandfather. He wrote down some of his story for those thankful few who have gotten to read it. But it is not within those pages that I have my memory. It is when I would go to his condo at York Point with the Jays game on the TV and the first thing he would do is offer my some ginger. Man, I hated ginger, and I always told him 'No grampy, that stuff is gross'. He would laugh, and ask how Disney, our black lab was. I would tell him of some accident that Disney caused and he would soften his eyes and say 'Not Disney, you must be confused with some other dog. He would never do that'. I smile even know as I write it...
He died from a lifetime.

Now I have known other people who have passed, Barry for instance, and a number of animals with who I was quite close, Asia for example. But these three have always and will always remain with me. My Grandfather especially.

Yes, I was upset with going in to see him one final time in the hospital. I believed I would always see him as such, in his weakened state. But I have surprised myself. I cannot now picture how he looked there. Perhaps some part of my mind erased it subconsciously since. But I am glad I went for there is one thing I remember. It was what he saw. He was turned towards the window, and it would be nice to think that he left the world looking out. But there was something else which I chose to believe he saw, sitting on a table, just beside the window. A picture of Disney.

The Jays won Grampy.

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