I always leave the 13th May free even if I’ve been blogging a lot in case I want to write about my dad. He passed away 24 years ago. 24 years of writing or thinking about him every 13th May. A date seared into my brain. Never did I think I’d be writing about my other dad, who passed away on the 12th. The dad I’ve known all my life. The man who raised me when my own dad couldn’t.
My best friend; my grandad.
I won’t go into the ins and outs of his death, instead, I’d like to do what author Victoria Schwab did when she lost her dad. I want to tell you about his life. I want to keep his spirit alive by ensuring everyone knows who he is. So if you have the headspace, I’d like to introduce you to the most amazing man in the world.
Forgive me if this is long or rambling. Grief isn’t pretty.
Our last hug (he sang to me)
Fixer & Carpenter
My grandad was a doer. Always up and about, doing something for someone. He was very good with his hands. A labourer. A carpenter. If there was something broken, he would work out a way to fix it. Get his hands dirty. Puzzle over it all day. Use scrap materials to rebuild and repurpose things anew. In a world of throwaway culture, my grandad was a keeper. A maker. Innovative.
He made us a wooden swing for our garden when we were kids. Made these wooden garden chairs. Made the awning and hangers and everything in the images below. If you wanted something fixed, he was your man.
Green thumb
As you can also see in the photos, he was a garden lover. Always outside with his hands in the dirt, muddy knees and sweat on his brow. Even into his 80s, he did his own labour. We’d scold him for going up ladders alone to trim the hedges surrounding his bungalow! When I think of Grandad, I think of blossoming flowers, towering trees, tomatoes winding around sticks and a haggard cap atop his head.
His greenhouse was his sanctuary. Built by his hands and full of flowers and plants ready to plant. When walking into the greenhouse yesterday, I broke into tears hearing the echoes of his greeting when I used to go looking for him. We’d visit and see Nan and ask “where’s Grandad?” and of course he was in the greenhouse!
Their garden housed many family gatherings & milestone moments
He would make hanging baskets full of flowers for friends and family, but I never got one because there wasn’t a place for it at my old house. Now, my new house won’t get one like we planned. And that’s heart-breaking.
Sadly, he’d been in hospital for so long now that it’s not the same blossoming paradise it once was. These pictures don’t do it justice so use your imagination to picture what it was like before.
Giver
You couldn’t leave their house without an arm full of stuff as if you’d done a grocery shop! Biscuits, juice, bottles of pop, Nutriment drink, plantain, strawberries, paracetamol, and more. He loved to give and ensure everyone was happy.
Thursday night dinners were our thing until mid 2024 when my nan got sick and this disrupted our routine. Rice, chicken, fried dumplings, cabbage and salad with gravy. I LOVED his dumplings. Loved dipping them in tomato soup as a kid and then gravy as an adult. He always had extra waiting for me! I’d pour our drinks of their homemade Guinness punch. The food was always too much. He loved rice and filled over half the plate with it! I never left feeling peckish or unsatisfied.
Never.
He always had time for you. Always available if you needed him. He’d listen to our woes. He supported me through depression and never said “just pray and it’ll be fine” though he was a very religious man. Instead, he’d pray for me and then just listen. Because that’s what I needed. He loved my sister when she came out. He never judged us for our choices that would differ to his own. He was a traditional Christian Jamaican man but without the rigidity or strictness that this sometimes infers.
Because with Grandad, love always came first
Chauffeur
Grandad used to drive taxis when he was young and so he loved to drive. Great sense of direction. Confident on the roads. He had a wooden knobbly seat cover that was so uniquely him. He also had a hand grip on the steering wheel because of his bad shoulder from an injury at work. These made his car special. Made it his.
Every evening after dinner he’d offer to drive me home. When I lived close, I declined. Didn’t want to put him out. I’d say “I need to get my steps in” or “it’s only a 7 minute walk” and he’d do the same pouty face every time! He wanted to. He enjoyed it.
I wish I’d let him.
He couldn’t drive for the last year or so. It became too dangerous and I think this made his illness worse. Driving was part of his identity and that was taken away. Like removing an organ. How is one to function properly after that?
I’d love to see his car pull up on my mom’s drive one last time.
Adoring husband
My grandad adored my Nan. Like true adoration. True love. They were so funny. He’d play tricks on her or make a joke and then look at me knowingly and she’d kiss her teeth at him and scold him, but then laugh when we all laughed. He called her Minsy. He was the only one who did, as far as I know. Their special name.
When Nan got sick, his mind declined quickly. Her pain was his pain. Being apart from her while she was in hospital was torture, never mind when he wasn’t able drive anymore and so he lost his independence to be able to go when he wanted to. Whenever one was in hospital, the other worried and insisted on phone calls every day. He choked up thinking of her being alone. He always needed to know she’d eaten and she was okay.
I’m so grateful that I see a lot of my grandad in my husband. I can only hope we have the same amount of time together as they did (60ish years), full of love and happiness.
They taught me what true love looks like
Father
My dad died when I was only 7 years old. He and my mom divorced when I was 4. So I grew up without a dad around much. Except, that’s not true because my grandad was my dad.
He was everything a girl could want and need in a father
Me and my sister at their old house where we grew up
He walked me down the aisle on my wedding day. Same for my sister. It was a moment that meant so much to me. I’m not a traditional woman but this was a perfect moment for me.
All of the grandchildren saw him as a father. He taught us what a great man looks like:
Strong
Dependable
Always showing up
Making us laugh
Holding us when we cried
Caring about what we cared about
Unbelievably loving and openly affectionate
A teacher and guide
Fixed what you needed fixing
Resourceful and pragmatic
What more could you ask for? We never wanted for anything. He picked us up from school. He took us for a cheeky McDonalds (to this day, a McDonald’s is still my go-to when I’m not well like he used to do for us). Calling our teddies Suzie even when we told him their actual names. Letting us watch Saturday morning cartoons on Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network. Sleepovers and hot water bottles placed in the beds ready for us. Hot chocolates too. A nice prayer. Morning sausages, bacon (fried to our taste, nice and crispy), dumplings and tomato soup. The full works.
He was so funny and genuine. Putting on voices when playing games with us or speaking as our teddies. Making jokes in voicemail messages. A smile so wide his gold-teeth shone to brighten up the room. Fixing our bike chains. Showing us around his shed which was a wonderland of gadgets and trinkets to use for our games. Arm wrestling us. Letting us play out with our friends in their neighbourhood. Everyone knows him.
When we were in pain, he would grab the pained area and say “Pain, I rebuke you!” with such force like he was channelling God’s power for us and just the way he did it was enough to make you smile and ease that pain.
He was a father to all who needed one
Grandad’s shed
The details
He called me Rosie
He would always be outraged when I asked him for something like how can you even ask?! of course I can!!
His catchphrase after talking about his back and shoulder pain was “but as long as I can get up out me bed, mek me food, or get meself to the bathroom, I’m alright!”
Flora butter dishes being used for everything you can think of! Take another look at the photos to see what I mean!
Placing a coaster or gravy lid over the top of our drinks when we went away from them, so they’d keep warm or not get bugs inside them
Picking tomatoes for us to take home from his garden and sending extra for my husband’s parents
Singing gospel songs as he cooked and cleaned in the kitchen
Praying together before Thursday night dinner
Watching The Chase on tv together
Being shown around the garden
Playing cards together every New Year’s Eve as our tradition before going outside into the street shouting happy new year at the top of our lungs!
How he’d jut his false teeth out at us to scare us sometimes!
His cardigan collection and always wearing shirts
Jaffacakes and Jacob’s crackers
Big Bear and Little Bear teddies at their house in Longley Walk where we all grew up
I put on his cardigan yesterday and found screws in his pocket because duh, that’s who he was!
Voicemail messages (I still have them and my husband saved them so I always will now), sometimes singing “I just called, to say, I love you!”
His iconic walking stick ❤️
I have a lot of posts scheduled that I wrote before we lost him. Things that really don’t matter anymore but they’re there, it’s fine. I’m sure I will want to write about him more. I am happy he’s safe and out of pain now. That he can be himself again and get to enjoy eternity with his Master now in Heaven. See you again, Grandad. Thank you for 32 years of pure, unconditional love. Don’t worry, we will take care of Nan for you now.
S. R. Crawford 