Today’s prompt for the 365 project was to create something out of paper. But not to use scissors, or glue, or draw on it. And it did possibly not have to be origami. Huh. I though a lot about what I was going to do. Fold something? Rip something apart? Make paper flowers? Make a pile of crunched up paper balls from my gazillion unfinished drafts and burn it?
In the end I went for a simple solution, even if the thing itself didn’t feel easy. I took out a piece of paper and started writing about my grandfather. I have a photo of him and our family dog, looking out over the sea, breathing it in, like they often did. None of them are with us today and I miss them sorely.I’ve wanted to do some journaling about this photo for some time, to try and catch some memories, so this seemed like a good time for it.
I wrote the journaling in Swedish, but have tried to translate it here. Bear with me though; English is not my native language:
Throughout my childhood he was a part of my summer holidays, my grandfather. My whole family got in the boat and went out to the island, and there he stood waiting for us on the jetty. My grandfather. He raised his cap and waved and smiled; a big, sincere smile. It was a strong certainty I felt as a child that he was genuinely happy to see us. You stepped onto the shore and you knew you were loved.
He was a great animal lover, which became apparent for instance when all the birds on the island followed him around wherever he went. He always kept a piece of cheese in his pocket to give them as a treat, and called for them and talked to them constantly. They flew after him and sat on his shoulder when he was working in over at the shed or down by the water. If you were lucky you got to feed them too, and it could happen that they landed and ate directly from the palm of your hand. But only if grandfather was present. It was as id they were doing it as a favour to him.
There were other animals that followed him around, of course, they all did. Like the foxes. He kept feeding them our leftovers, and they would snoop about to see what he was up to. But only when things had calmed down and grandmother and grandfather were alone at the cabin.
Whenever you came to visit grandpa always had a story to tell. It was like an update about the neighbourhood, about the foxes and birds and badgers. In return, I got to tell him what was up with my own pets.
He was always very happy when we brought any of our pets out to the cabin. He spent an entire summer taking care of, and talking to, my pet bunny, one year when we were travelling a lot.
My grandfather and our family dog, Chief, was like two peas in a pod. It was like they had a constant conversation going on whenever they met. They both loved the island, the cabin, and the sea. They both enjoyed life to the fullest out there. And grandpa always had a piece of cheese, or maybe a meatball, to share.