Grandpa Joe's World

There is a painting on the wall in Grandpa Joe’s room at the continuing care centre. It is a beautiful water colour painting, showing a ship on the horizon. It was painted for Grandpa Joe by my late grandmother, Louise.

Often when I go to visit Grandpa Joe, I find him sitting alone in his room staring up at the painting, and I know he has left this world for some time. I know he is back in time with his ships.





“Louise, you take the helm!” He orders me, as he cross the room. “I need to go port side, to change the direction of the sail. These winds are getting strong.”

I watch as he pulls his baseball cap down further on his brow, and looks out over the room, seeing things that I can’t. I know that he is with Grandma Louise on their sail boat. He bought that boat after their thirtieth wedding anniversary, and after that the two of them were out on the water almost every weekend.

Grandpa Joe loved Grandma Louise with all his heart. As long as I could remember, he would bring her flowers every Friday when he would come home from golfing. He would say, “I have brought home some flowers for you, my love”, before setting them on the table, taking her hands, and dancing around the kitchen to whatever was playing on the radio. Grandma Louise would just smile and laugh.

They had been together since their early twenties, but had separated for a few months, before they got engaged. Grandpa Joe told me that after not seeing or talking to Grandma Louise for several weeks, he realized how much he missed her, how much he needed her, and that he wouldn’t be able to spend the rest of his life without her. They had only been married for about six months before Grandpa Joe was drafted into the marines, and was gone for the duration of the war, leaving Grandma Louise home.

Grandma Louise had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer nearly seven years ago. Unfortunately, it wasn’t caught early enough, and she only lived for a few more months after she found out. I remember at her funeral, I sat beside Grandpa Joe, and held his hand. I had never seen him cry before, but big tears rolled silently down his face.

When the eulogy was over, he looked down at me and said, “I would do anything to have been able to have more time with her. I lost time with her because of the war, and that wasn’t my fault. But I wish I could do it over and not have spent those few months without her in our early years. I was just a stupid child then, but I don’t think I can forgive myself for that.”

There was nothing I could respond to that, beside just giving his hand a squeeze.





“Peter! I told you, if you want catch a fish you need to be quiet.” Grandpa Joe says to me sternly. He is now seated in a chair by the window, and gestures to me to sit down beside him. “And for heaven’s sake child sit down, before you fall into the water!”

I hastily go and sit beside him, as he looks out over the room again. This time I know he is with Dad fishing early in the morning. I have been told Grandpa Joe and Dad went fishing all the time when Dad was little. Grandpa Joe is probably seeing the cool water, and the birds flying in the distance. He is probably hearing the breeze rustle the trees on shore.

Dad was born about a year after Grandpa Joe returned from the war. Due to complications during his birth, he was the only baby that they were able to have. Dad and Grandpa Joe were really close. They would always go golfing on Friday afternoons, leaving me and Mom to visit with Grandma Louise. Grandpa Joe was the first person Dad would call whenever there was good news to share, and also the first person to call whenever he needed some advice.

One night, when my parents where driving home from a fundraiser, they were hit by a drunk driver. They died at the scene of the accident. I had been spending that night with Grandma Louise and Grandpa Joe. When the police came to the door, I heard Grandma Louise shriek, and poked my head out of my room to see her collapsed into Grandpa Joe’s arms sobbing. Grandpa Joe just stood there stoically, but he was never quite the same after that. Grandpa Joe and Grandma Louise were supposed to have gone to the fundraiser, but Grandpa Joe had been feeling tired that day and decided he didn't want to go, so they had given their tickets to Mom and Dad...





Suddenly Grandpa Joe stands up, and looks at me with fear in his eyes. “Sir, yes, sir,” he exclaims, and moves swiftly across the room. He stoops, and picks up air with his hands, lifting it to his neck height. He then pulls at nothing with his hands, covers his ears, looks back at me, and yells “Fire!”

As he loads another cannon, that I can't see, I know he is back on the ship during the war, firing at the enemy. I know he is with Charlie. Charlie was Grandpa Joe’s younger brother. Charlie had been drafted into the marines at the same time as Grandpa Joe, and, by some miracle, the two were put on the same ship.

The story I was told by Grandma Louise, is the one night when the enemy was firing at their ship, Charlie was hit. Grandpa Joe had been busy firing back, and it wasn’t until things calmed down that Grandpa Joe found out that Charlie had been hit. He rushed to find him, to see if he was okay…but was too late. Charlie had died from his injuries, in the arms of another soldier.

“He has never forgiven himself for not looking after Charlie that night.” Grandma Louise had told me. “He feels like it was his fault. I have always told him there was nothing he could have done, and he needs to forgive himself, but I still wake up sometimes to find him tossing and turning calling Charlie’s name.”





Grandpa Joe sits down on the bed, and pulls off his ball cap. He looks at me, seeing me for the first time since I got there.

“Hello sweetie,” he says smiling up at me. “Is your dad with you today?”

“Not today Grandpa,” I say, ignoring the burning behind my eyes. He is the last living person in my family, and his dementia diagnosis has been hard to deal with all by myself. I had to take on a second job to pay for him to get the care he needed. I come and visit him every few days, and watch as he slips deeper and deeper into another world. A world with Grandma Louise, a world with Dad, a world with Charlie, a world where I almost cease to exist.

It wouldn’t have mattered if I started crying, because Grandpa Joe is again looking at the painting, and is drifting back to his ships, drifting back to a world before he knew loss and regret.