South Africa, 2007

We would walk together always.

That was the activity, it seemed like he enjoyed the most, without necessarily expressing it, I knew he did. Because I like walking now. I'll get into that later. For now, I'm walking with him, by his side.

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It's November, South Africa, Witbank. I'm 11 going onto 12, if my memory serves me correctly. It's me, my twin sister and my parents - my brother hasn't been born yet, but would be born later, after my mom would have 17- year-old twins, thinking she was done having kids.

Anyways, it was just the four of us, with our grandparents visiting ever so often. Perhaps, 3 times a year, but it wouldn't match our count of visiting them 6 to 7 times a year.

It was a November morning and we agreed to set out on a walk around the neighbourhood. He would encourage me to bring my I-pod, so I could listen to music if I wanted to, often referring to it as an "i-con", still getting used to the ever so fast evolution of technology. We lived in a gated complex you could say, that had several houses within it. It had security at the entrance, checking people in who were visiting this complex. Our walk sometimes went that far, and he would make small talk with security guards who were probably up to no good, always goofing around on their job.

....

So we set out on the walk. The sun was warm, and we wore sandals, bypassing different houses and a field on the opposite end, where you could play a good game of soccer with a full team.

We walked, and came across this neighbour, who was midway cutting his grass. My grandfather struck up conversation, with the neighbour, asking about his day, while I observed. He had on flip-flops and black nail polish on. Mind you, this was 2007. I wasn't judging though, because luckily I wasn't taught to judge so quickly, and I thought it was okay, if he wanted to wear nail polish. Anyways, I observed and eventually we continued our walk after their conversation ended.

I'm pretty sure my grandfather told me that he wasn't afraid to approach people and talk to them, a skill which I was petrified off, or lacked rather. I wasn't sure which. At least that was the narrative that I believed about myself, based on people around me. The sun was hot, much like it is today, as I write this.

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Eventually we made our way back to the house, to relax on the patio, that had french cottage doors opening outwards. I'm not sure if I went inside to watch my favourite Disney channel series or if I joined him outdoors. He would enjoy a milk stout (which is a type of beer, I believe, google it if you're curious) and shortly after he would go and lie down eventually transitioning into a nap, for about an hour or two.

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Being 26 years old, I enjoy walks by myself, to reflect on the time I had with him, when he was physically present. I believe he is spirtually around me, always. I loved and continue to love him with all my heart. Him and I had a special bond. A deep bond, that only a grandfather and granddaughter would understand, or perhaps any relationship that you hold strongly and safely in your heart.

Him and I had a lot in common, as a psychic told me once. I inquired about him through her, in hopes of seeking closure from his passing too. And whether I believed her or not, was up to me.

We both have a big heart, she said over a phone call. He was working at a factory in his day & age, and she described, 'he was too big for that place', and she said the same about my working at a fast food resturant, coming up on a few months of working there. Flash forward to 7 years later, I am working at a ballroom dance franchise, which I also realized that he was a ballrooom dancer in his day and the best actually. He never ever disclosed this, but instead I found it out from his brother (who had also passed a few months ago this year) that he loved Ballroom dancing.

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So when I go for walks, I try and reconnect with him, to perhaps take me back to when we would walk around neighbourhoods together and get ice-cream or he would go on to talk for ages, when I am pretty sure I lost interest around the 2nd or 3rd topic he brought into conversation.

HE was a force to be reckoned with. There are things that he had never disclosed when he was alive, but I came to learn different things about him after his passing, about the kind of person he was. Something that surprised me, but doesn't change my relationship towards him, is that he held a lot of grudges.

My relationship with him, from a young age, was filled with nothing but love, at least in my eyes, and from my young perspective. I did see him get angry at my grandmother, for small quabbles, as any married couple would. But I was told by my mom that if he did not like someone, that was it, he cut them off. If someone did something to him, it was over. He held on to that energy, for God knows how long.

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When he passed in 2011, I supressed the grieve. I didn't talk about it, ever. Whenever his name came up, I would leave the room or distract myself. I was heartbroken. It hurt too much I think to voice his loss. It was only after 7 years following his passing, that I wrote a play about him (unintentionally) and I ended up doing a psychology paper on him because it was the root issue of most things, but mainly of why I was afraid to try new relationships. I was afraid, that whoever I was going to get close to would leave. Of course, after I had dealt with and processed the grieve, I entered into my first romantic relationship, and my grandfather remains to always be in spirit around me.

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My relationship with him now is ongoing as is the grieve from losing him, but I still hold him ever so close and strongly in my heart. My relationship hasn't changed despite me still learning things about him before he became my grandfather. IF anything, I enjoy learning about his early life, perhaps that would give me some insight into how to navigate life, the way he navigated his.