Surfing on sunshine

Do you know how long it's been since I sat outside in the sunshine World? No, of course you don't, not even I know the answer to that. It feels good. I know the winter sun is supposed to burn me to a crisp, but it feels so lovely - besides, I need to stock up on my quota of Vitamin D.

I'm sitting on our little landing outside the kitchen, leaning against a pole, staring at the deep blue sea with the sun warming my back. The ocean looks alluring today World...it's sapphire and azure all in one go. Oh, I really have the urge to pay it a visit - though I wouldn't dare go alone; even my beloved beach is no longer the safest place in the world that I used to think it to be.

Sitting out here I can't help but wonder in awe at how lucky I am. I get to live with the sea at my front and a nature reserve to my left. I could sit out here all day and listen to the bird calls, the rustle of the leaves as the wind whispers empty promises through the trees, and the beat of the tide against the shoreline. All of these sounds I know so well, I could recognise their familiar voices anywhere.

My Grandmothers Jasmine vines are drying out, but they still look so pretty creeping up the latticework. I remember taking a walk with her around this time last year, and watching her face light up in pride over the intoxicating flowers. I miss her World, I miss her so very much..I went to a wedding on Sunday, and got ready to run downstairs to twirl around for her in my pretty dress and high heels - how she used to love me doing that - and then I remembered that she wasn't around any longer for me to do that. She wasn't around for me to watch her face explode in delight at the sound of my bangles chiming, or for her to run her hand over the soft material of my clothes in appreciation. I really thought that she would be around for a few more milestones...

Every evening I go downstairs and make supper for my Grand-dad. I sit and eat with him too. It's sad how they get so old, so very fast. I still remember my Grand-dad as this robust, sturdy, strong man who everyone was scared of - he may not have been a very good father, or the ideal husband, but he was the best grandfather anyone could ever ask for. When I was little, I could never finish all of my food, and he would finish it for me so that I wouldn't get scolding from my mother - it made me sad when the other day at lunch, he pushed his plate towards me and said, "You finish this for me, I can't finish it myself." And then last night, watching him walk from the table to the bedroom, my heart sank even further: he's all bones and sharp edges. Running my hands over his aching muscles, I really just wanted to cry - of course I didn't - I scheme even if I had tried to cry I wouldn't have been able to (I sometimes wonder if my tear ducts are frozen?) - this was the man who used to lift me up high over his head so that I could peep into the neighbours yard and watch their mad dog barking; the man who used to take me to the beach front fun fair every Thursday night, and stand there for hours watching me have the time of my life;  the man with the booming voice who everybody was in awe of...and now he was just a skeleton with red eyes from mourning and muscles too frail to do anything more than the basics on his own.

I remember putting him to bed last night, and coming up the stairs, ready to jam on my earphones and blast on my Thirty Seconds to Mars and MCR mix - to beat the sad out of my system - and then, the most extraordinary thing happened: a rather ordinary kind of guy made me smile. And then I remembered seeing his smile for the first time - it's the kind of smile that makes you stop and stare, because really, it's pretty ordinary in itself...but at the same time, there's something indefinable about it, like in that one smile he's unconsciously saying, "Don't worry, the world's not such a bad place you know." And when he made me laugh later on in the evening, for the first time in a very long while, I kind of believed, that maybe...the world really wasn't such a bad place after all. And sitting out here now, in my beautiful beach side place, it sort of feels true.