In Memoriam - Henry Stein
For those of you that don't know or may have forgotten, my mother's father passed away at the end of May last year. He was incredibly important to me, as he is probably one of my biggest role-models in my life and believed that anyone could do anything, no matter what challenges they were faced with. For this and so much more he will forever have a special place in my heart. I will not go into all he meant to me, as I've already said some of that in other places and other times.
The reason for this post is to talk about the weekend though. For the first time since his death, the whole family was together, as my brother and cousin have returned from the UK and the Jo'burg contingent were down for the Argus. So on Saturday we all met up to celebrate my Grandmother's birthday (which is in a month) and to remember my Grandfather. We decided to have it at the Vineyard, which is amazing and holds so much memories for the family, and to have a short memorial in the gardens there.
All week I had been thinking of him and what he meant to me, as my mother had asked if I wanted to say something. This was partly something she was asking everyone and also a plea for someone other than my aunt, who can be a right twit, to say some words. So I sat there, and procrastinated, and let all the hurt and grief well up in me about the situation. For with every memory, a little part of me broke and I would have to stop. Eventually I sat and wrote out some words which I ended up reading along the river and amongst the trees. I place it here because it is special to me and this is where I say what I need to:
My feet shuffle quietly through that open door,
Into a room that is now silent and dark,
No longer brightened by your presence,
No longer echoing with your warm voice.
I hover there, undecided, hesitant,
Tears quietly flowing as I realize you are gone
Not to return and hold me once more,
Not to ease me with words well spoken.
Eventually my eyes fall upon a bedside lamp,
Old and scarred dark wood, polished and carved,
And I remember the sweet smell of sawdust
And the buzzing of saws and turners
My mind flits back to those well spent days,
Around the workshop, helping you cut and smooth,
Bringing the lamp into existence
Helping you shape as you helped shape me
Glowing now, the wood slowly spreads its quiet light,
Touching a bed spread here, a paperback there
Its tendrils sparking off memories, one after the other
Filling the room with smells and shapes and sensations
No longer do I hover and shuffle,
Now I glide and dance in every moment
For no matter where you are,
You will never be from me
For nothing can take you away
As long as I can think and breathe and be
For you are now a part of me
A part that can never die
The actual event was nice. A few of us said some words and there were tears and hugs and all the normal. My aunt almost did some stupid stuff, but my mom kept her in check. I think he would have appreciated the whole event, or rather I know he did, as to me he was there, as he always is when I think of him and wish to chat. And afterwards we all were able to talk about him with an ease that I don't think had been there before, this almost being that chance we needed to send him on the way in our own hearts.
I always see him as chuckling though when we all get together, as we are all so different and family politics result in something as simple as whether or not to have a seating plan becoming an issue. But that is our family, with siblings attempting to out do each other and others keeping it from spilling over into the festivities.
But for all I think the person that most benefited was my Grandmother. This was the last thing that needed to be done to close this part of the journey. He has now been laid to rest by the family and the healing can finally begin to come to completion. Or as much as will ever occur.
So now I say goodbye to my Grandfather once more. Thank you for all the memories and guidance that you gave and continue to give to me. You will always be my guiding light and the one I wish to emulate. May we all by our actions remember you in the best of ways and make you proud.
The reason for this post is to talk about the weekend though. For the first time since his death, the whole family was together, as my brother and cousin have returned from the UK and the Jo'burg contingent were down for the Argus. So on Saturday we all met up to celebrate my Grandmother's birthday (which is in a month) and to remember my Grandfather. We decided to have it at the Vineyard, which is amazing and holds so much memories for the family, and to have a short memorial in the gardens there.
All week I had been thinking of him and what he meant to me, as my mother had asked if I wanted to say something. This was partly something she was asking everyone and also a plea for someone other than my aunt, who can be a right twit, to say some words. So I sat there, and procrastinated, and let all the hurt and grief well up in me about the situation. For with every memory, a little part of me broke and I would have to stop. Eventually I sat and wrote out some words which I ended up reading along the river and amongst the trees. I place it here because it is special to me and this is where I say what I need to:
My feet shuffle quietly through that open door,
Into a room that is now silent and dark,
No longer brightened by your presence,
No longer echoing with your warm voice.
I hover there, undecided, hesitant,
Tears quietly flowing as I realize you are gone
Not to return and hold me once more,
Not to ease me with words well spoken.
Eventually my eyes fall upon a bedside lamp,
Old and scarred dark wood, polished and carved,
And I remember the sweet smell of sawdust
And the buzzing of saws and turners
My mind flits back to those well spent days,
Around the workshop, helping you cut and smooth,
Bringing the lamp into existence
Helping you shape as you helped shape me
Glowing now, the wood slowly spreads its quiet light,
Touching a bed spread here, a paperback there
Its tendrils sparking off memories, one after the other
Filling the room with smells and shapes and sensations
No longer do I hover and shuffle,
Now I glide and dance in every moment
For no matter where you are,
You will never be from me
For nothing can take you away
As long as I can think and breathe and be
For you are now a part of me
A part that can never die
The actual event was nice. A few of us said some words and there were tears and hugs and all the normal. My aunt almost did some stupid stuff, but my mom kept her in check. I think he would have appreciated the whole event, or rather I know he did, as to me he was there, as he always is when I think of him and wish to chat. And afterwards we all were able to talk about him with an ease that I don't think had been there before, this almost being that chance we needed to send him on the way in our own hearts.
I always see him as chuckling though when we all get together, as we are all so different and family politics result in something as simple as whether or not to have a seating plan becoming an issue. But that is our family, with siblings attempting to out do each other and others keeping it from spilling over into the festivities.
But for all I think the person that most benefited was my Grandmother. This was the last thing that needed to be done to close this part of the journey. He has now been laid to rest by the family and the healing can finally begin to come to completion. Or as much as will ever occur.
So now I say goodbye to my Grandfather once more. Thank you for all the memories and guidance that you gave and continue to give to me. You will always be my guiding light and the one I wish to emulate. May we all by our actions remember you in the best of ways and make you proud.