Saturday, 21 April 2012

Saturday

Posted by Tania Kindersley.

In the end, my body has cleverly taken over. I feel revoltingly ill. Everyone has their pain, don’t they? I never get headaches, for example. When my body is all packed up and tired and cross and worn out, I get a bashing ache all over my back, from stern to tip. I always describe it as if a very grumpy Shetland pony has kicked me all over. It’s the physical version of saying: stop.

The good thing about this is that I have to stop. No choice in the matter. I can’t really think about anything else, but lie like an old lady on the sofa, with the Pigeon slumbering under a blanket. Outside, the rain falls. I have a couple of disastrous bets which makes me think of dad. Definitely channelling his Saturday afternoon catastrophes.

I think of him. I think: a year ago today a flawed, funny man died. What was he else? Not like anyone else you ever met. So other really, that ordinary words aren’t much good for him. He was a bit wild, unconsciously unconventional, brave, generous, and oddly unworldly. He didn’t really understand about rules and divisions and social mores. Because of this, people put up with his sometimes slightly eccentric behaviour with smiles. He could light a room. All he wanted was a joke, a horse to ride, a woman to flirt with and a drink to drink. I sometimes wished for a more regular family life, but in the end, looking back, I think I probably got lucky. I get the different drummer, which is worth quite a lot of tea in China.

As I finished writing this, I went next door to watch the Scottish Grand National. There were a lot of hotly fancied horses running in it, some young stars from Cheltenham, some big money. An old Scottish fella called Merigo was trying to win it for the second time. He won two years ago, to tears and cheers in the winning enclosure, managed a gallant second last year, has done bugger all this year. He has a big old white face, and a huge great pair of quarters. He is eleven, which is getting on. I could not have a penny on him.

As my fancy pulled up before the fourth last, I suddenly saw the old white face cantering along on the outside. Other, younger legs were passing him, but he would not give up. He pulled into the lead, put in a couple of glorious leaps. Oh come on, Merigo, do it for Scotland, I shouted.

After four miles, his legs were tired. Pace goes, as they get older. A bright, dark bay horse went streaming past him, full of running. But Merigo loves Ayr; he runs better here than anywhere else. This is his race. He picked up, put his auld head down, and went for the line, refusing to be denied. He won by a short head. I shouted as if I had the house on him. I shouted for love. I love the old campaigners, the ones who aren't perhaps naturally brilliant, the ones who win on grit and heart and guts and sheer damn determination.

That feels like my rule for life today.

 

Only one picture today:

19 Dec Dad 19-06-2011 13-53-39

17 comments:

  1. They do that to us, our ol' bag o' bones. They say will you sit down and keep still and SHUT UP! like a very stern primary school teacher from any time before the 1960s.

    I too am "a martyr to me back" but never get a headache. Also, my Dad died on 20 April (see earlier comments) and liked to bet on the gee gees, once road a pony around New South Wales looking for work on farmsteads or in outlying townships, when he was a young fella in Oz in the Depression. Another man born in a time when men were men (or cads, or bores or scoundrels). I still miss his dry humour and his honest perception, and to be without him for thirty-odd years of my life (since I was just shy of 21) has been often quite tough, especially as my mother went too, five years later, when I was only 25 and a young mother in an impossiby diffult marriage.

    But I believe we have to let our parents go on ahead and have their eternal rest (even if one has no religious faith, death is certainly a long lie-in with no alarm clock). My old dad would have been 105 this year, had he lived on until nlow, which is a bit bloody unfeasible...!

    I think you and I may have some values in common which keep me reading your updates; love of dogs, love of good soup simply made, love of the beauty of the world and its wild places, deep admiration for a well-honed sentence. Liberal credentials. A biological need to laugh and laugh and laugh. Not being afraid to admit vulnerability...

    So I can tell you, assure you, and - I hope - comfort you, from a place a few years ahead of you, from a station a few stops along the line, after two or three years it is perfectly possible to see a photo (or even more intimately, I think, read the handwriting) of a dear departed parent, and NOT suddenly curl into a ball, lose the use of your legs and slide with one's back against the wall and howl on the floor until spent.

    We stop being orphans in the storm, and after a short while, well, pleased to tell, it's pretty much OK.

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  2. dur RODE, not ROAD. Honestly, I'll get me coat...

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    1. SAYARAMLI INGIN BERBAGI CERITA KEPADA SEMUA ORANG BAHWA MUNKIN AKU ADALAH ORANG YANG PALING MISKIN DIDUNIA DAN SAYA HIDUP BERSAMA ISTRI DAN 3 BUAH HATI SAYA SELAMA 10 TAHUN DAN 10 TAHUN ITU KAMI TIDAK PERNAH MERASAKAN YANG NAMANYA KEMEWAHAN,,SETIAP HARI SAYA SELALU MEMBANTIN TULANG UNTUK KELUARGA SAYA NAMUN ITU SEMUA TIDAK PERNAH CUKUP UNTUK KEBUTUHAN HIDUP KELUARGA SAYA..AKHIRNYA AKU PILIH JALAN TOGEL INI DAN SUDAH BANYAK PARA NORMALYANG SAYA HUBUNGI NAMUN ITU SEMUA TIDAK PERNAH MEMBAWAKAN HASIL DAN DISITULAH AKU SEMPAT PUTUS ASA AKHIRNYA ADA SEORANG TEMAN YANG MEMBERIKAN NOMOR MBAH KABOIRENG,,SAYA PIKIR TIDAK ADA SALAHNYA JUGA SAYA COBA LAGI UNTUK MENGHUBUNGI MBAH KABOIRENG DAN AKHIRNYA MBAH KABOIRENG MEMBERIKAN ANKA GHOIBNYA DAN ALHAMDULILLAH BERHASIL..KINI SAYA SANGAT BERSYUKUR MELIHAT KEHIDUPAN KELUARGA SAYA SUDAH JAUH LEBIH BAIK DARI SEBELUMNYA,DAN TANDA TERIMAH KASIH SAYA KEPADA MBAH KABOIRENG SETIAP SAYA DAPAT RUANGAN PASTI SAYA BERKOMENTAR TENTAN MBAH KABOIRENG…BAGI ANDA YANG INGIN SEPERTI SAYA SILAHKAN HUBUNGI 0-8-2-3-2-2-2-1-2-1-1-1 MBAH KABOIRENG. KLIK DISINI!





      SAYARAMLI INGIN BERBAGI CERITA KEPADA SEMUA ORANG BAHWA MUNKIN AKU ADALAH ORANG YANG PALING MISKIN DIDUNIA DAN SAYA HIDUP BERSAMA ISTRI DAN 3 BUAH HATI SAYA SELAMA 10 TAHUN DAN 10 TAHUN ITU KAMI TIDAK PERNAH MERASAKAN YANG NAMANYA KEMEWAHAN,,SETIAP HARI SAYA SELALU MEMBANTIN TULANG UNTUK KELUARGA SAYA NAMUN ITU SEMUA TIDAK PERNAH CUKUP UNTUK KEBUTUHAN HIDUP KELUARGA SAYA..AKHIRNYA AKU PILIH JALAN TOGEL INI DAN SUDAH BANYAK PARA NORMALYANG SAYA HUBUNGI NAMUN ITU SEMUA TIDAK PERNAH MEMBAWAKAN HASIL DAN DISITULAH AKU SEMPAT PUTUS ASA AKHIRNYA ADA SEORANG TEMAN YANG MEMBERIKAN NOMOR MBAH KABOIRENG,,SAYA PIKIR TIDAK ADA SALAHNYA JUGA SAYA COBA LAGI UNTUK MENGHUBUNGI MBAH KABOIRENG DAN AKHIRNYA MBAH KABOIRENG MEMBERIKAN ANKA GHOIBNYA DAN ALHAMDULILLAH BERHASIL..KINI SAYA SANGAT BERSYUKUR MELIHAT KEHIDUPAN KELUARGA SAYA SUDAH JAUH LEBIH BAIK DARI SEBELUMNYA,DAN TANDA TERIMAH KASIH SAYA KEPADA MBAH KABOIRENG SETIAP SAYA DAPAT RUANGAN PASTI SAYA BERKOMENTAR TENTAN MBAH KABOIRENG…BAGI ANDA YANG INGIN SEPERTI SAYA SILAHKAN HUBUNGI 0-8-2-3-2-2-2-1-2-1-1-1 MBAH KABOIRENG. KLIK DISINI!

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  3. What a handsome dad you had....he sounds lovely. mine has been gone 5 years now, and still sometimes the need to have a "daddy" suddenly comes over me in a huge swamping wave.
    Judith

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  4. I wish you better soon....i would like to reassure you that what you are going through is "normal ". There is no getting around the grief process - going through it is the only option. It seems cruel and shocking but you will get through it In one piece and in time I promise you will remember your father wiith love and a smile rather than love and tears. I lost my own father in 2006 and until then had no experience of losing someone so close. He was part of me - my insides - if that makes sense. The first two years were a rollercoaster as the shock wears off and the horrible realitly dawns. It will pass - i promise. I talk about my father often, think of him, daily and remember him with happiness. He is still in my life. I hope this is at least a little comfort. Grief is an exclusive club which weare forced to join...Your girls are beautiful - they will see you through it...take care Claire

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  5. ...holding your oh, so delicate heart in my hands today...

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  6. "worth a lot of tea in China." That says a lot.

    And praise to Merigo. Sometimes, life is very good indeed.

    Bird

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  7. Tania

    Thinking of you today, have a good rest and cuddle with your sweet dog.
    When I read your descriptions of races and your obvious love of the horses, I'm always moved, I must start watching more racing on the TV, it is so exciting.

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  8. I absolutely love it when "life imitates art" and true grit, heart, guts and determination really do win the day.
    It gives me hope.

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  9. Holy cow, I almost jumped out of my chair. Cheers for Merigo, and "...Rushed" is right, your racing stories are some of my favorites, though really nothing you write about puts me off?

    My dad's been gone 20-odd years, and my heart still leaps in my chest when I see a short little post of a man who's climbed into his clothes carelessly and looks hopelessly twisted and uncomfortable. I'm afraid you never stop missing them, but over time -- lots and lots of time -- most every recollection brings a smile. What's that old saying? Be joyful for having known them, not sad because they're gone. Easier said than done, sadly.

    Be well, Tania.

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  10. Thinking of you so strongly.
    I know how very hard and sad it is. It just is. You're allowed y'know, he was your darling Dad.
    Much love. Anne.x

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  11. I'm keeping you in my thoughts x

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  12. Thinking of you, your Dad looks like a wonderful chap.

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  13. Such incredibly lovely comments; they are so much appreciated. Thank you all.

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