Pop George

My Pop on my Dads side was kind of a bit of a funny man. He didn't really like anything modern and he complained about a lot of things (his favourite subjects were Rap music and coca cola. he hated these 2 things with a passion that is unparalleled) but he was still pretty cool. He died when I was 15 and i don't really have that many memories of him. No really big memory anyway. not a full on story. just little things.
Like when i was 5 and they lived at Darlington Park (which is now all fancy and called Darlington Beach Resort.. whatevs) and we went to the beach and i'm not kidding, i swear to god i stood on a lobster or something. and i freaked out and was screaming and running up the beach and then when we got back to Nan and Pops house i was still kinda hysterical and i was like, i stood on a lobster and it was really big!! and my pop was like “did you bring it back for me to cook? nothing like fresh lobster!” and i was like, no. it was big and scary.
Or like how my pop cooked the best spaghetti bolognese in the world. THE WORLD! i consider myself to be a pretty good cook (at least, I like what i cook) but i will never, ever be able to cook spaghetti bolognese like him. ever. me and my brother used to request it, every time we visited.
And i used to think my pop was a bit of a cranky man, but looking back he was really quite sweet. Like, when they lived in Port Macquarie and every day at 4 he used to go out to the back verandah with some mince and feed the kookaburras. when i visited we would do it together, even tho i was kinda scared of birds. and he used to be real strict about what birds could have it IE not the stupid fat magpies that used to annoy him. JUST the kookaburras. and he used to watch the birds when he was feeding them and make sure that everyone got some. and the not so fat ones he was extra nice to and used to give them a little bit more because they weren't as aggressive as the other ones.
but one of the last memories i have of my pop and i together was when they lived in wachope. he was pretty old and i was all annoyed and teen angst-y at him because my last birthday was spent at his house and its a tradition that i always have maccas for breakfast on my birthday but he didn't like maccas so we had to go to the stupid golf club for breakfast and i had to pretend to like it even tho i just wanted hotcakes drenched in the syrup that only macdonalds have and 2 hash browns. and we were watching TV and i was about to go to bed when we started watching this show that i cant remember the name of. and we were SO INTO IT! it was kind of like a murder mystery kinda show and we were discussing what would happen and then after an hour it was like “to be continued”. i never got to see the other half, i don't know if he did, but we both felt so ripped off that it was “to be continued”.
it sounds stupid, but its probs one of my favourite memories of my pop.
so my pop died when i was 15... Actually, what happened was he had to get surgery and the Dr. was all, if you have the surgery you MIGHT die, but if you don't have the surgery you WILL die. anyway, what ended up happening was he never woke up from the operation, but he was in a coma for a fair bit.. i don't really remember it that well. i remember that my Nan didn't want us to go and see him while he was in a coma, because she didn't want us to remember him like that. It was like he was already dead when he was in the coma. just technically speaking, he wasn't. anyway, i never really got to say goodbye to him because i'm like this hugely optimistic person and i kind of just expected him to wake up.
i think it was fair enough that my nan didn't want us to see him. I respect that. I don't think i would have liked it if the last time i saw my pop he wasn't talking. and just lying there. apparently it didn't even look like my pop.
i remember when my mum told me he died and i was real weird about it. i was at AYSTO and my mum comes in and she was like "Ann-Marie, you need to come home now" and i was all like "why?" but secretly pleased cos i didn't really like AYSTO that much. and then she was like "Pop died" and it suddenly wasn't all that exciting to be going home anymore. so i packed up my violin and i think i cried a bit on the way home but i don't remember. then we drove for a really long time and went to my uncles house and i didn't know how to act but i just remember feeling really sad for my nan.
sometimes i think its worse for the partner of someone who dies than it is for the kids and stuff. because when you marry someone, you CHOOSE them, but when its your dad you didn't choose them. its not like one person is sadder than the other, but when you build a life around someone i imagine it would be devastating when they die.
having said that, i'd be devastated if either of my parents died.
I'm a bit funny with funerals. i act real indifferent when I'm there. its like I'm a different person. i'm all mature and serious and i sit/stand very straight with a very grown up expression on my face. at my pops funeral i was trying to be all strong for everyone and it was really sad when his best friend gave a talk because he couldn't talk real well cos he had a stroke, and he pretty much stood out the front trying to talk and crying. and then i remember realising that it was my POP that was in that casket and they started lowering the curtain to cremate him and i remember losing it and i was all sobbing and mum gave me a tissue. i thought i was hysterical but my mum told me she was kinda surprised at how mature about it i was and how controlled i was.
its funny how your perception of things can be completely different from someone else's.
Anyway, i never really got to say bye to him, so this blog is in memory of Pop George. There is not a special reason i'm writing about him tonight, i was just thinking about him. sorry it took 5 years pop.
x