Day three..Moving and Understanding the folks

Leaving one’s friends behind is one of the hardest things any boy my age should have to go through. It was one of the most jarring times in my life … I was only eleven at the time and back in the late seventies, it seemed as though someone had just pulled the rug from beneath me and by extension my mother and sister. We were moving from Carenage to Diego Martin..And even though the move was sudden , the hurtful part was not being able to say goodbye in the shorterm and the long lasting resentment of our friends and neighbors. But try as we did to explain to no avail that we didn’t know we were moving, fell harder  on deaf ears. .

Where was my moms mouth in all of this you ask? Well her personality didn’t allow her to act out in the presence of my rigid father. A petite woman in stature, a trait that was more often than not overshadowed by her big heart and generous nature, leading her into the role of matriarch of our family and extended family. But with that came a price as she and my father were like fire and ice.

As a couple and in retrospect like all relationships, where in this case my father would falter my mom would always be there to pick up the slack. One thing gained from that experience apart from what not to do in a marriage, was the strong work ethics they both showed, as well as the emphasis on education, moral and spiritual values.

Laughter came and healed all wounds in my house, so when we laughed we laughed! We learned to laugh at one another’s misfortune. My mom at one time had this Chinese hairdresser in downtown Port of Spain, and on this particular day when she went by him he told her ” Miss Cookie ah have a new ting ah wanna try….. you mind?” I remember it like it was yesterday as i had just come from school and was sitting in the waiting room when he addressed her. Knowing fully well the ease at which my mom trusted people it was just amatter of time before that trust came back to haunt her.

By the time she came home she was bald! I mean bald-bald, not a grain on ‘D woman head’….Zero Hair os, nada! And my father had a field day with that one, going so far as to buy a wig and place it on a water melon…That was one of the many funny episodes…She was also accident prone; Looking back now I realize how lucky I am to be alive.

She was one of those drivers like my father that made your heart race even faster when you were in the car. I believe now that they both needed a license to have a license to drive. Mother was always late for everything all because (as most of you parents know), kids are always the keep back. Just remember folks, we lived in an era of no cell phones back then yet as most I recall the talking, plus lipstick going on, plus everytime a car came close the pulling to the left, everytime. Laughable now, but back then I guess as kids we had no other choice but to see it for what it was and trust that we would all make it home alive, which of course we obviously did. My father’s problem was that he was a road hord/hog. you stay in your lane but don’t ever try to squeeze down the sides in the hope that you’ll get an ‘in’.

 

These are my folks….

I saw this photo a few years ago and showed it to my mom…..and went “Awwwww …” And with a tear in my eye and a frog in my throat I said to my mom ” this is such a beautiful picture mom …you look so beautiful..” And her response to me was ” That was the most miserable day in my life …you know I didn’t know that man was married before ..!!” She also went on to tell me…. “And come to find out he had six children too? Hogwash!”

That smile worked for him

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Day two (2) My Blog…Like i still in introduction mood…Steups!

Day one I gave you a little snippet of me, so maybe as my friends would say….”Just tell them about you”. Yeah right!

Well for one! I don’t know if I’m Blogging or Twittering? I here feeling kind of silly writing this missive only to realize that my mouth is moving as I type…Damn! Have I become my gone but not forgotten parents?

My mother spoke to herself at times, and told me its not speaking to oneself but having  self-affirmation, a response that even today I find myself using. My father as I remember, would cross and shake his feet, legs crossed, while at the time smoking  his authentic English man’s pipe.

Though my dad studied and lived like my mom in England, he was as English as a hairy toothpick in an olive and cheese ‎​Hors d’oeuvres. But one thing for sure that I’ll always remember was trhe fact that he was a ‘Man’s Man’… Plumber, Electrician, Gardener, Carpenter, shit the man could even cook! Oh yes, and how could I forget, a very talented Mason.

Anyway, a nuclear family consisting of course my parents and my sister who’s name as best as possible I would try to omit from further discussion, and me…. Back to my father…..He always as far back as I could remember we always had three cars.  A pick-up, a luxury car, rememembering specifically the Pontiac and British Kingswood he owned in the early stages and his propensity to  always be buying and selling a car.

This was funny. One day a boldface neighbor decided to pick an argument with ‘D Ole Man’, on how my father have to watch his property line and how he can’t be making noise in his machine shop because it kept him up at night. suffice to say, as clear as day. (Shit this deserves a new paragraph!)

Ok , where was I..right ! I remember my father throwing down the yard broom (he was sweeping) calmly walking inside…..my mom was like “children go inside” , I knew back then the smell of bachannal. Especially when my father came back outside armed! Yes armed with several pieces of paper and told my neighbor to check his deed to see who really own what! He told the man “And don’t be late with your next payment!”. Ha ha ha what a laugh, what a riot ! Somehow between Bim and Bam my father owned that man’ s house. Needless to say my mother was lost as we all were discovering this….Well not to out do himself he had another surprise up his sleeve. He said “let’s go!” Well not exactly like that, but you get the drift. We drove down La Horquette Valley Rd in the west where we lived at the time and he pointed to a another house on the hill and said that we were moving there. So say the least, that never happened, eventually he sold that house.

By this time the family business was picking up and we living a comfortable life. One evening as faith should have it, he decided to let me in on a little secret. You see, on some mornings he would drop me off to school, but on this occasion he insisted that we not sleep at ‘home’ and told me that we’re sleeping out so “Get your school stuff one time!” And off we went. Into Diego Martin we drove and into a yard that the house in Glencoe could fit in! So I’m like “Whay? So daddy who house is ‘dis’ ?” A normal question for any young boy to his father…His response was ” Boy shut yuh dam mouth and pick a room and sleep!!” And that was that! Next morning I awoke to a mansion. It had everything : Built-in stove, oven, dishwasher, fridge with ice maker…built-in cupboards the works. There was even a pool.

The following week my friends and I were playing in the street when two 3 tonne long tray trucks come down the street with my father in toe. That day will forever be etched in my mind. My mother coming home from work and my father saying we moving ! And that was that!

Grahame 1414 …an introduction…

Born on the 14th of February, Valentine’s day, an Aquarian, I am a Trinidadian born in the Republic of Trinidad and Tobago. University educated, I grew up in a middle classs family with strong foundation and good ethical values.

These same values were tested all through to present as they have allowed me to stay grounded and when wrong, blame no one but myself. My mother was responsible for that. So here I am about to embark on a journey that I wish to carry you on. Blogging? What the hell is that? Well for sure I usually have a lot to say, but where do I start an what do I ‘Blog’ about.

This being my first note I’ll keep it simple..just to get the hang of it I suppose. But really my friends keep telling me that I should write a book about my life because it seems that I always have some episode that seem to humor them. So I guess this is one way to express myself…what do u think?

So as I go along and get used to this medium I eventually get the jist of what I’m doing and my purpose for doing it…if that makes sense. And thinking about it I guess I could always talk about the things that I like and don’t like….One thing for sure is service, or lack there of…And of course I love cooking and gourmet foods….could talk about that as well. Or maybe I’ll be that fella who checks out your eatery and critiques your food , drinks, damn! I’ll critique your ass if you let me!

Sorry ’bout that; But already I’m beginning to get a feel for this so all I can say is lend me your support, first to my friends and by extension the wider community. And maybe this will go somewhere ….I hope it does. So until my next blog …..Question? Should I have some sort of parting hook ? Like “See ya!” Or like “Hit you back!” Hell with it. ” I hungry so what you gonna eat? “. That’s it!!