The Great Escape.
“It’d be very easy to just walk out.” Says my grandfather. “I’ve walked all over, I know where the exits are now. It really wouldn’t be difficult.”
I rub the back of my head for a while.
“I know Granddad, but you haven’t actually been incarcerated as such….”
“Yes well, whilst you’re here Mark would you mind opening the window for me?”
My name is not Mark.
“I’m thinking we’ll keep the window closed. I’ve just looked and it leads straight to a flat roof. I don’t want you getting any ideas.”
He doesn’t see the funny side, busy as he is trying to ‘open’ a full-length mirror that is screwed to the wall in the belief that it is in fact a doorway to a non-existent kitchen so he can make us a cup of tea.
“I really don’t know what I’m doing here. It was just a little fall – my ankle you know – out riding. This is all nonsense. These bloody doctors. Trying to make a name for themselves.”
My Grandfather is 94. He has not been horse-riding in at least fifty years.
“Mmmmmm.”
For the first time he looks at me directly. For an instant – the most difficult thing – he is back.
“You live alone. Do you get lonely?”
“Well. Sometimes. I’m at work all day, it’s demanding stuff so I’m usually too tired to feel anything much when I get home. The weekends are tough I suppose.”
“Hm. Exactly.”
I’ve no idea what he means by this.
“Would you like a cup of tea? I can make you one.”
“No, it’s ok Granddad.”
You bastard, I think to myself. This had better be serious because you’ve took all the attention away from me and my ‘little’ scare. You’d better be dying at least.
I rub the back of my head for a while.
“I know Granddad, but you haven’t actually been incarcerated as such….”
“Yes well, whilst you’re here Mark would you mind opening the window for me?”
My name is not Mark.
“I’m thinking we’ll keep the window closed. I’ve just looked and it leads straight to a flat roof. I don’t want you getting any ideas.”
He doesn’t see the funny side, busy as he is trying to ‘open’ a full-length mirror that is screwed to the wall in the belief that it is in fact a doorway to a non-existent kitchen so he can make us a cup of tea.
“I really don’t know what I’m doing here. It was just a little fall – my ankle you know – out riding. This is all nonsense. These bloody doctors. Trying to make a name for themselves.”
My Grandfather is 94. He has not been horse-riding in at least fifty years.
“Mmmmmm.”
For the first time he looks at me directly. For an instant – the most difficult thing – he is back.
“You live alone. Do you get lonely?”
“Well. Sometimes. I’m at work all day, it’s demanding stuff so I’m usually too tired to feel anything much when I get home. The weekends are tough I suppose.”
“Hm. Exactly.”
I’ve no idea what he means by this.
“Would you like a cup of tea? I can make you one.”
“No, it’s ok Granddad.”
You bastard, I think to myself. This had better be serious because you’ve took all the attention away from me and my ‘little’ scare. You’d better be dying at least.
posted by Tired Dad at
9:56 pm
21 Comments:
Yeah been there ... I think you both need some TLC.
both of you .. look after both of you, please.
Oh dear that was funny. That reversal at the end, where obviously your grandad's atttention is all on himself, then you blame him after the one moment he's turned your attention on you. Theres probably a term for it in literary theory, but fuck that, it made me laugh.
Hehehehehehe. You just crack me up. You want to see something that should die, I'll post a picture of my 96 year old mother in law wearing leggings...pardon me, I must go puke now.
Seriously, hope you are feeling much better
You got me at the end there. Funny in a shocking, bad kind of way. I suppose death is the greatest escape of them all.
I'm terrified of getting to the stage when I mistake a mirror for a door to a kitchen.
Perhaps the blessing is that he doesn't know that he's made the mistake. At least, that's what one hopes, eh?
hoping that he doesn't escape and that your head is still ok.
Ali x
Debs: First time round for me - the whole family's spazzed-out with it though so I'm not making it a personal cause celebre.
C: Doing my best.
loob: Was it not the concept of 'the unreliable narrator'? Oh I forget it was twenty years ago.
punx: I feel absolutely fine and always have done despite recent 'wobble'. Oddly my Grandfather says the same thing so who knows.
Ellie: Bloody hell. Cheer up love.
Ali: My head seems fine but I'm going back in tomorrow to see if I have a functioning heart. Those who know me well have already cast doubt on this. We'll see.
Not sure about the escaping - he's now of the opinion that he's in a clinic in Switzerland and we're about to have him put to sleep so perhaps he'll redouble his efforts to break out.
Well, that made me laugh!
Apparently the best thing to do with someone in your Granda's situation is to agree with them, it's supposed to be soothing. Maybe you could help him start a tunnel in the flower borders? It'd take ages and give him something to look forward to. Actually, I may start one myself...
I hope he doesn't break out. That would REALLY take the attention away from you.
Hope all goes well with your tests.
Epilepsy? Brain Tumour? Mid Life Spaz out?
You need a proper hug.
X
You're the one who made me think it!
J: Oh he's fine now the bastard. He did this fifteen years ago - major stroke and then was tip-top 10 days later after scaring the shit out of everyone.
Em: Thanks. My tests are the least of at the minute.
Anon: Hello whoever you are. The Jury's out as to the cause and I'm very particular about people touching me.
Ellie: Eh?! You'll be blaming adverts for making you buy stuff next!
TD, you are funny as shit, but you make the nurse in me worry. Maybe you could stand to follow a few of my culty golden rules. Sending you good vibes across the ocean. I'm glad you're ok.
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Hello. I don't think the episode had anything to do with 'vibes', good or otherwise, but thanks.
I'll blame what/whoever I have to (can).
You go girl.
Your granddad sounds like how my mother is starting to sound. This worries me because my mother is not 94, she's 57. I keep begging everyone responsible for her to get her a damn MRI or CT scan or whatever the hell they need to do to check her damn head as to why she's going senile so young. Her doctor keeps doing blood tests as if her brain has somehow dissolved and is now flowing freely through her veins.
Sorry to hear about your seizure. I hope it all turns out ok somehow.
Hello Nathaniel.
Really don't know what to tell you but thanks for dropping by.
Mom had Alzheimer's before she went. Dad is 89 and getting "vague" now.
Sometimes I think the vague ness is a blessing, because it keeps them from realizing how close the end is coming.
And here is a very-long-distance-non-touching-type hug. {{hug}} I hope whatever sent you loopy was a one-off temporary type thing.
Sew: Thanks for the non-touching-hug-thing; my favourite. I've no doubt it was not only temporary but a one-off. As to the 'vague-ness' - it's more difficult right now because every now and then he's BACK and it's difficult to reconcile.
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