Tuesday, January 19, 2016
The chainsaw I inherited from grandfather felt smooth and powerful in my hands. It's weight was surprisingly light. The old man must have had a real time with this machine. I could picture him in his sleeveless t-shirt - a yellow bandanna covering his sweaty face as he sliced deep into the great sycamores of our county. I tried to measure the impact he had had on the people in his life. The wild way he would flail about when he was happy. It reminded me of a naive school girl. His giddy high pitched laugh, his bashful blush when complimented, his slack hands fluttering like a baby bird. Most people will recall his enchanting gait - the effortless mince as he carried himself about on his daily errands to town. But the one thing I will always hold on to, the one thing that keeps me in awe - was his unapologetic hatred of all written words and his complete dismissal of any hard facts or 'devil's science' as he liked to call it.
Posted by LIFE ON DAYS at 9:42 AM