Dedicated to Popsie, for his courageous fight, beautiful soul & incredible lovely human spirit he shared with us.
xox
"All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players, They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts."
When I was eight years old, my Mother & her partner, at the time, moved us to Waikanae beach from Martinborough. We moved into a very modest, but cute, little house in Victor Grove. Victor Grove, is a little slice of paradise. In Victor Grove, it's as if time has passed slower than the rest of society. Our neighbours quickly introduced themselves, and we got to know everyone in this little "street" quite well.
Although it was only fourteen years ago, neighbours then, were - well neighbourly! We would have BBQ's and parties, where we would literally close of the street and party on the tar-seal. This mix of retiree's and young families, made Victor Grove one of the safest, nurturing, friendly places I have ever lived at.
We got to know one man in particular, quite well. His name was John, a retired man, living by himself. He spent his days on his boat, fishing off of Kapiti Island. He had lived a full life, raised a family and had many good friends. Unfortunately, his marriage did not work out and he found himself, single. Very early on, my sister Kelsey & I dubbed him "Popsie". Popsie was such a kind man, often bringing over fresh fish he had caught to give my Mum. He would never accept anything in return. I have fond memories of Mum, arming my little sister and I with an iced banana cake and instructing us to run next door and place it on Popsie's doorstep, ring the bell, and then run home.
My Mum, and Popsie soon became great friends. We would often go over to Popsie's house for BBQ's, with other neighbours, and after dinner the real fun would begin. Not unlike my own Grandfather, he had a great love for good old music. Rock'n'roll & Dean Martin. There would always be a guitar, singing and dancing. As my grandparents had a love for this music, Kelsey & knew all the words. This astonished Popsie. He thought it was "bloody marvelous!" In many ways he was a grandfather figure, to Kelsey & I. Although at that time our biological grandfathers were still around, they were far away. Popsie, always told us how beautiful, smart & special we were. And he had a way of making you believe it, even if only for a short time.
As time went on, we moved out of Victor Grove. We saw less and less of Popsie, as he had found love again, in the heart of a woman, who shared his love of music & dancing. Years went by, and Kelsey & I grew up, so although Mum kept in touch, we would very rarely see Popsie.
When my Mum married Darren in the summer of 2006, I was looking forward to catching up with Popsie, and his lady love and the reception. After the formal speeches at the reception, the floor was open to guests to share their thoughts. Popsie took the stage and shared some words of wisdom and said how proud he was of my Mum. He then said "and look at her girls, aren't they beautiful dolls?" He demanded a response from the crowd "Well aren't they!?" He then burst in to song singing "Oh you beautiful dolls". Even at his ripe age, he was the life of the party.
Brad & I had just started seeing each other a few weeks prior to the wedding, so he was invited to the reception. Later on in the evening I ditched him for a bit to hit ol' Popsie up for a spin on the dance floor.
He asked "Is that boy your date is he?"
"Yes, he is. That's my boyfriend Bradley" I told him.
"No wonder you've got a boyfriend, you're beautiful!" He told me. He then went on to say "You make sure he treats you right love, you deserve the best and don't you forget it darlin'!"
After assuring him, that Bradley was a good guy, we finished our dance and returned to our tables.
Last week, almost four years after Mum & Darren's wedding, sadly Popsie lost his battle with cancer.
I hadn't seen him in a long time, yet I was so so upset. I always had, and always will have such great, fond memories of such a fantastic man.
We attended the funeral this week. It was hard to say goodbye. We were filled with guilt and longing, but also relief that he is no longer suffering. At the funeral, many old neighbours from Victor Grove were there. Fond memories, and funny stories about Popsie were told. Mum had written some beautiful words down, so when it the opportunity was given, we got up to pay tribute to a very special man. Mum did really well. She made a lot of people cry. She made herself cry. She made me cry. It is so hard to say goodbye to someone who had such an effect on your life, even if it was only for a fragment of my childhood.
After the funeral, Mum & I headed to the beach, late in the afternoon, for some lunch. As we sat and ate, we looked out over the ocean - a perfect day for fishing. Popsie would've definitely been out on the water that day, if he could've. I sat there and thought about Popsie over and over. Recalling speeches, about his life really got me thinking about life in general...
...Every day that we get to spend in this beautiful life is a blessing. Do not gamble with it. We are lucky to be here. We are lucky to have people to love, and those that love us in return. We should appreciate the good people we have in our lives, after all they help us stitch together memories, which make up our own stories, which one day we will look back on as our "life." We never are to know when those loved ones might leave us. At times we will be dealt awful hands, and all we can do is attempt to play the cards we are dealt to the best of our ability.
Yesterday I found myself still pondering over three main points of my internal 'argument':
Life is beautiful, unbearable & unbelievable.
We live, we love and we learn.
and most importantly...
Life. Is. Short.
