Flashbacks
The moment when a certain taste, smell, time of year...brings back memories from the past. I really love those instances and mostly am surprised at how easily one forgets precious moments. As a tribute to this feeling I will write them down here whenever one of those flashbacks comes to haunt me.
As most of you know I work in an old people´s home/hospital. This work is at times very physically and mentally demanding, yet gratifying in many ways. A new man came to our ward some days ago and he smokes the pipe. Having lost the ability to light it himself he asked me. When he started smoking, a sense of such well-being came over me and than I remembered...
when I was little I adored my grnadpa and I was his favourite. Now being a very energetic kid i always used to make a fuss before bedtime just to stay awake for a little while longer. After a short time grandpa used to put me on his lap and smoked his pipe and told me a story...always one story and one pipe. He was so nice, patient and very imaginative. After that I had to go to bed...which was fine by me, because I just loved that smell. It became the rule of my childhood life to always wait for grandpa and his pipe and there was nothing dragging me into bed before I got that. Grandpa, wherever you are...I love you!
I sat with that new man until he finished his pipe, we talked about the old days in Iceland and then I showed him the way to his room. He said: "thank you for a lovely evening, honey!" and little did he know what it had meant to me.
The moment when a certain taste, smell, time of year...brings back memories from the past. I really love those instances and mostly am surprised at how easily one forgets precious moments. As a tribute to this feeling I will write them down here whenever one of those flashbacks comes to haunt me.
As most of you know I work in an old people´s home/hospital. This work is at times very physically and mentally demanding, yet gratifying in many ways. A new man came to our ward some days ago and he smokes the pipe. Having lost the ability to light it himself he asked me. When he started smoking, a sense of such well-being came over me and than I remembered...
when I was little I adored my grnadpa and I was his favourite. Now being a very energetic kid i always used to make a fuss before bedtime just to stay awake for a little while longer. After a short time grandpa used to put me on his lap and smoked his pipe and told me a story...always one story and one pipe. He was so nice, patient and very imaginative. After that I had to go to bed...which was fine by me, because I just loved that smell. It became the rule of my childhood life to always wait for grandpa and his pipe and there was nothing dragging me into bed before I got that. Grandpa, wherever you are...I love you!
I sat with that new man until he finished his pipe, we talked about the old days in Iceland and then I showed him the way to his room. He said: "thank you for a lovely evening, honey!" and little did he know what it had meant to me.
4 Comments:
Ah that was a lovely story and made me think about my grandpa too... ah memories... :-)
Such a wonderful memory! My Grandfather was quite a storyteller as well. Your story made me remember some things about my own Grandfather.
What I remember most is that whenever we visited him, he would greet me by saying "come here and hug my neck". That is a saying here in the southeastern parts of the states, meaning "give me a big hug". We also say "give me some sugar" to little kids, meaning we want some hugs and kisses. He also called me "buttons", because I had a "small-as-a-button" nose when I was a little girl.
Stop it already, Vikings Kings don't cry ! sniff, sniff,
Awww, thanks for sharing that story. The thing I remember most about my grandfather was that his hands always seemed so big and strong.
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