I had a pop. He was a larger than life Aussie bloke. He loved footy, fishing and having a beer and a yarn with his mates.
His idea of formal attire was his good jeans, flanno and his RM Williams boots. Usually I’d find him though in his polo shirt, short shorts and the same pair of thongs (flip flops) that he’d worked in to fit the shape of his feet perfectly, to go up the bowls club for the meat raffle of a Friday night.
Well it was when I was little anyway. Some of the best times of my life were had running around with the neighbourhood kids and making some great memories getting stuck out on sandbars, running from the “BIG” waves and collecting millions of sea shells, then proceeding to leave them in buckets all over his garage for weeks and weeks. He would grumble about it asking “what the bloody hell are you doing with all those bloody shells” as he tended to do, but he never threw them away. He would continue to grumble and mutter about them for the rest of the summer but the very next summer, id come back and they still be there. And then I’d proceed to collect more. I wonder what ever happened to those shells?🐚
My pop Jack, bought me and my sisters bikes to keep at his place for when we’d visit each holidays. I remember looking at these bloody bikes and imagining breaking all the bones in my body. They were these large thin framed old school bikes that had those really large thin tyres. I refused! I convinced myself I couldn’t ride a bike because I was terrified of what would happen IF i fell off. Old jacky boy told me to shut up and get on and proceeded to push my down his driveway, no helmet or anything.
That’s how I learned how to ride a bike. And how to swim, and fish and play poker -Texas hold ‘em five card draw, he taught me how to mow a lawn and how to stake up a tomato so as to get the best harvest. He taught me how to make friends with wild birds , which gave me a love for feeding the magpies on his back fence, which my mother also does at home, he talked to little green tree frogs 🐸 in his pots out back, he gave me an affinity for old English/Aussie songs, along with a strange sense of nostalgia when I hear the M.A.S.H opening Theme song.
He had an above ground pool out back when we were young, surrounded by wooden decking. I remember running around one day with my sisters and my eldest sister, stepped straight on a rusty nail. Pop pulled that nail out, wrapped her foot in plastic bags and said, all sorted, go swim 😂
He allowed us to be kids, we could do and go and be whatever we wanted as long as we were awake at a reasonable time (which according to him was sparrows & if you weren’t up he’d spray your bedroom window with the garden hose, saying he was watering the garden 😂), as long as we were respectful to our elders, had manners and were home when the street lights came on, he was good.
Pop, he wanted us to go out and live, to learn to see and do. To fall down and scrape our knees but get back up and get on with it anyways. To literally keep our heads above water if we started to drown. He would have a beer with the neighbours while they and we and their kids played wheelie bin cricket until he couldn’t see the ball anymore and he’d call it and we’d all go inside for a BBQ and movies whilst all the girls got their hair plaited by the kids mums
He took us fishing out on boats and taught us how to clean and fillet a fish 🤮 he kept me honest when playing board games cause he wouldn’t allow cheating and to this day if I smell sausages grilling under a griller or have hot chips with chicken salt and sauce on fluffy white bread with butter, I think of him
Things change though, as things tend to do, as families fall apart, and people grow older and move away, we lost touch. I regret that. I miss out on so much with him.
He was a tough love kinda guy and I was intimidated by him growing up. But now, as an adult, through all of the noise of the past, I can see parts of myself in him.
My love of the ocean, my love of all things nature and growing, I remember he had large pothos and monsteras climbing everywhere. Fish tanks all over his house. It’s like looking in a mirror and realising that no matter what happened in the past. Or how things were left at the end. Or the time I lost with him for one reason or another, I’m grateful that I carry parts of him with me through my life and through my actions and beliefs
Miss you pop. Hope you’re having a beer in the sky, kicking back and enjoying the sunshine.
Mr Gibbous and The Wildling 