1902 and beyond

I've been thinking about my grandfather a lot lately and I'm not sure why; maybe because I'm getting older and am thinking differently, maybe because I miss him or maybe for some other reason I'm not aware of. Maybe for reasons I'd not like to share here.

He passed away before I was twenty but I was fortunate to have him living with me from my birth to the age of seventeen and a half when I moved out of home. He and his wife, my nana, (pictured above in 1925 on their wedding day) owned a large homestead in a small rural town in Australia where I was raised by my parents and sometimes grandparents who stayed in a section of the very large house with us. It was a nice situation as I managed to spend a lot of time with my grandfather and to some degree my nana. She was a stern lady, but loving, however passed away when I was about nine years old so I had much less time with her and my grandfather ultimately became the most important grandparent I had.

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He was a clever man, and good with his hands (an amazing wood worker and carver) had musical talent, was an excellent photographer, personable, friendly, an excellent sportsman, great sense of humour, somewhat mischievous and many things besides. He was a good influence.

I'd spend hours listening to stories from his youth, sporting and musical, the trouble he'd gotten into along the way, both world wars which he'd lived through, his jobs and how hard he'd had to work throughout the Great Depression to raise his family, his success and failures, hopes and fears and so many things in between. All the while I was soaking in those stories, the life he'd led and lessons he'd learned which, though sometimes incredibly difficult to go through, had helped him shape life a little more effectively as he moved forward through it. They were good times I remember fondly.

We'd sit at his kitchen table (the homestead had two wings, the smaller of which was his and my nana's complete with a kitchen) and share a cup of the strong black tea he loved so much and a biscuit and I can vividly remember how it'd all start...He'd say, "come over here and sit down Mr. Chips, let's talk." (He used to call me Mr. Chips)

My earliest memories of this were at about the age of four and a half, way too early to be drinking his tea, and the last time I recall doing this was in 1989 not long before he died.

Lately I've been wondering how much of who I am can be attributed to my grandfather and other ancestors and how much is just me.

I think much of who we become comes from the past, those that came before us and ultimately brought us into being, but so much is down to the experiences we have as individuals as well. We have many influences throughout life and when mixed in with our intrinsic selves out comes whatever and whoever we will be and are. Having said that, I am a strong believer in the past, history, and it being a huge factor in how we move forward into the future and therefore I believe the influences gained from my grandfather have been instrumental in how I've progressed in life.

I don't know every detail of my grandfather's life however I know he lived a full one; it was held ups and downs and twists and turns which took him from his birth in 1902 and beyond and I'm confident in saying that he felt content with it which makes me happy. Applying the looking glass to my own I can say the same thing so far despite having vastly different experiences than my grandfather had. There's aspects I'm not happy with of course, I think a person is lying if they said there wasn't, but it's those things that show me there's room for improvement and it's people like my grandfather who have shown me how to make those improvements.