My Grandfather

When I was four and a half or so, my grandfather broke his hip.  My grandmother for reasons best known to herself, packed up all her belongings and moved down to the coast to live with her twin sister.  As far as I know, she never came back to live on the farm again during my grandfathers lifetime. 

From that time on, my bedridden grandfather spent half his time living with us in our outside rondavel and the rest of the time in the outside rondavel on the farm next door belonging to my uncle.

My sisters and I adored my grandfather, who would dispense sweets to us at regular intervals.  Early each morning my middle sister and I would rush into his room, just in time to catch the early morning exercises broadcast on the radio.  We would jump up and down on the spare bed in his room in time to the music.  He never seemed to mind us doing this and would smile at all our antics.

He used to allow us to clean his pipe ever so often, and we would take forever to do this chore, cleaning out the bowl and poking the tar out of the stem with a stick. The best part of it all was at the end, when we would suck and puff and blow on this nicotine stained, tar ridden pipe stem.  When I think of it now I shudder!

It was a sad day for all of us when my Grandfather died in his sleep while staying with my uncle.  His coffin was placed overnight in our rondavel, to await the funeral procession the following day.  This would make its way to the family plot on the other side of the pig sty. My big sister had been instructed by my father to take all the grandchildren for a walk while the funeral was taking place.  I was six years old at the time.

We climbed to the top of the hill where the famous blue gum tree stood surrounded by prickly pears, and solemnly watched the cortege move silently to the Cyprus tree enclosed family cemetery.  I wasn't too sure I was allowed to watch the proceeding, because we had been forbidden to look through the window at the coffin in the rondavel.  Of course we had, and so there was a little twinge of guilt mixed in with the sadness that day, and it was this which coloured the entire experience for me.