So. Previous entry, part the second.

I received a phone call from my dad at work on Thursday afternoon, which is a fairly unusual occurence. The last time he called me was last year when he wanted to tell me that he'd gotten us tickets to the Canadian premiere of Star Wars: Episode II. My grandfather is in the hospital with hepatitis A, dehydration and kidney failure. He's fairly confused as well, and on the whole things are not looking good. His younger brother died earlier this week, and I think that's had a fairly detrimental effect on his health.

My grandfather was born on Halloween, 1919, at the tail end of the first world war. He served as an engineer for the British during WWII, and had two children with his wife Janet, who died in 1996. My dad is the younger of the two children, and they came here from Scotland in 1956, when my dad was three. Because my dad is not very close to his sister (ie, God probably talks to Satan more than my dad talks to his sister) I don't really know my grandfather that well, and it would be fair to say that I regret that, though perhaps on some level given the family strife, it is somewhat unavoidable. I do know that he used to sound like Frank Sinatra when he sang, and that I hate ET because for a long time it was the only movie my grandparents had and we watched it everytime we went there; that he used to delight in a old home movie reel of me singing "The Wheels On the Bus" on our deck at the old house in Hanover. Only pieces, I guess.

{ prev & next }