my_grandfather mcdougall A fallen soldier Sixty years after his war We will all miss you. 041224 ... monee blue: grandfather my father's father born april 1919, his mother had 'spanish influenza', she died giving birth to him, she died, he lived he served in the army, he was an inventor and a mechanic and a genealogist and more and he got sick from the chemicals in his shop and he drowned, killed himself in 1983 and i never knew him, but i have some pictures and i look at them sometimes and wonder about him 041226 ... nom i've been thinking about him 060208 ... warmthofrelease they come in twos theoretically. one was present in my life, up to a point. that point being june 2016. that was the paternal grandfather. he was short of stature and tall of character. he had some very pointed and cynical beliefs, he ran into some bad luck, and kind of drank himself to death. although it was officially a stroke. 2nd stroke actually. the alcoholism was what spiraled him into some dark places. they say my brother went over to see him a few days before he died. brought over a bottle of gin, drank and talked all night. I don't know what happened. I never feel comfortable talking to my brother at all, much less asking him about something like that. I hope he had some peace. in the 7 years or so that he was present in my life he taught me a lot. set a real example. and yes I'm being somewhat sarcastic when it comes to his lack of self-care skills, but I carry that same lack of self-care. to have seen his mistakes makes me wiser. I don't fucking drink anymore. much anyway. or when I do I don't drink gin. not even the bottle I just bought last week. barely had any of it. look, my point is that the_apple_doesn't_fall_far_from_the_tree and also that I want to do better than he did. and he wants that for me too. and also that he gave some great advice, lent some poignant perspective, guilt tripped me on the few occasions that I actually deserved to be, and was a great travel partner. my_other_grandfather though? that's another story. 240318 ... epitome of incomprehensibility The one I knew was my mom's dad. When I was about 8, he taught me algebra - of the very basic type. If x + 3 = 7, what's x? ...Forbidden knowledge! You know how parents say, "We'll tell you that when you're older?" Well, here I was doing HIGH SCHOOL math! (For context, in Quebec, "high school" usually means grades 7-11, not 9-12). There was also the factor that my longtime friend Julia was/is some sort of mathematical genius. Did I become one too? Well, no. Hell no. But I had fun, as Grandpa did singing off-key and speaking French terribly - bonn-jewer, cuh-MAH sah VAH? Unlike me, he was a skilled mechanic. Like me, he was weird in mundane ways. Once he took the camcorder and recorded himself driving around his neighbourhood. His commentary included the naming of landmarks: that's the bowling alley! There's Valois_Park!! The combination of his enthusiasm and the sheer unremarkability of everything (shades of my Parks_Project) made it Canada's Funniest Home Video to an audience of exactly four. Let x = 4... Mom worried how he held onto the steering wheel, but maybe he attached the camera to the dashboard or seat beforehand. 240319 ... raze i tried once to write the story of all i know about him. i got about halfway through. then my computer fell asleep and ate the words, and it landed on the list of all_the_blathes_i_could_have_written if not for fate or fear intervening. he was a fascinating, maddening mess of a man. he poisoned almost every good thing he ever had. there was compassion in him, but it was buried so deep, i think even he forgot it was there. he passed down his restless creative spirit and left behind a lot of pain and unanswered questions. i wish i could have known him better while he was still here, but he was never really reachable. even when you were in the same room with him, he was almost always somewhere else. 240320 what's it to you? who go blather from