Image by J. Remus on Unsplash

I learned so much from silence

How my stubborn grandpa taught me acceptance and appreciation.

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There is a sun-dappled bench in our garden that reminds me of the way my grandfather used to sit at the end of a long afternoon. In large, purposeful, wading steps he would step out onto the patio in his black sandals and take his usual place on the white bench, immediately in front of the house, not sitting so much out of tiredness as to be at ease. Straight-backed, tanned arms that worked long hours planting vegetables lyring across their armrests and feet flat on strong ground.

Often, against soft evening shadows full of the last meek sunlight, there would be a look of the wilderness about him as he sat, unmoving except for the wind whipping his beard in excited licks around his face. And like the patient owner of a springy spaniel, every now and then his outstretched hand would raise like an anchor, firmly fist the wayward beard from underneath his chin and tenderly smooth it down to its original tamed state, only for the whole process to begin again.

against soft evening shadows full of the last meek sunlight, there would be a look of the wilderness about him

He would sit like that for perhaps half and hour, an hour, maybe more when he was at home alone, which was often, since my grandma passed away. Rather than residing with family, he chose to live alone, where memories of her decorated the atmosphere of every room. However, it always seemed that it was outside on this bench where he was most at peace.

Or perhaps it wasn’t peace. To look at him sitting on that white bench, as I often did when my brother and I played close by, it seemed that my grandfather was watching over his garden, scrutinising the progress of the tomatoes, turning his head slightly to observe the heights of the spring onions and counting the numbers of cucumbers he could see growing through the windows of his greenhouse. My grandfather was the Lord of his allotment it seemed, and proud of his horticultural achievements.

However, on coming closer or perhaps through shedding the naïve wrappings of youth, I realised that at some point, this look of evaluation turned inwards to resemble the far-away look of memory. Whilst he welcomed every interruption, it never felt…

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Gurpreet Bharya

Wellness copywriter at G.B. Copywriting, Poet. Here to inspire small business owners with words that open customer hearts | Insta: @gb_copywriting_