EPTToday I had planned for myself to get my lazy bum off of playing SCII, CoD, Tribes: Ascend and what-not and start doing some school work, since me and my family have planned to paint the boards for our summer cottage the second part of the week, since it would get started earlier due to changed schedules.
Well, turns out life had other plans. In one of my busier weeks this year, my grandfather on my father's side passed away. How old he was eludes me at the moment due to the sorrow, but he was in his mid-seventies or low eighties. The last time I saw him before he went was this Christmas. Truth be told, he didn't sound well back then, and I kind of guessed he had but months left, but reality hits you hard, bro.
Needless to say, my dad was distraught when they told me. I was too, but I managed to hold my tears in because I didn't want to make my parents even sadder. So I waited until they told me that they were going to visit him, and that me and my brother didn't have to come if we didn't want to. I actually tried to leave earlier, but dad told me not to walk away from it. I decided not to come, because it would only make it worse.
After that, I returned to my room, fired up CoD because I needed to get my mind off of things. I took a minute or so to silently cry reminiscing of him. Why silently, you ask? Partly because I, like I ealier stated, didn't want to sadden my parents even more, and partly because of the line "Children cry, men endure" from "The tale of the otori" has stuck with my (though it doesn't always work, which you can se in a previous blog post).
We weren't that close, mostly because of the fact that my brother has always been the grandson who everybody favored due to him being better at manual labor than me.
But last summer, that changed when I was assigned the task to mow the lawn at my grandparents' summer cottage. Although I first dreaded the thought of hearing how bad I was at things, there wouldn't be much of it, and even when the lawnmower was nearly destroyed by my failure to understand how much oil should be in it (apparently you're not supposed to fill it to the brim, herp derp), my grandfather never got completely pissed, just disappointed.
He was stern, but kind. He was meticulous, because he wanted to save time. He supported my wish to continue my education as well as my desire to study abroad. I must say the chats we had during teatime & dinner were very enjoyable. Alas, now that time has come to an end as well.
So here's to you, grandpa. May you rest in peace.
And now on to a tribute to hockey. This seems kind of weird, doesn't it? But there's actually a simple explanation. I wrote earlier how I went into CoD to try and focus on something else except the sorrow, but it only fed the sadness, so I quickly quit it. However,a hockey training is coming up soon, and that is a thing which helps me stop thinking.
It's simple, really. If my full attention isn't on the ice, I don't do nearly as well as when it is. This makes me focus a lot more on hockey than real-life issues. Every time when I've been saddened by something, hockey has helped me out of it. This is a big part of why I love the sport. Sure, it's a double-edged sword, as sadness comes from it as well, but that doesn't happen often at all.
It might also have a little bit to do with the team feeling, and being a part of something larger, where everybody knows each other, plays together & laughs together. Perhaps some jokes are a wee bit to raw for the common people, but everyone means well in the end. These two attributes is what makes hockey great for clearing your head, whether it's from sadness, women or stressing out before a test. I don't know if it's the same for other sports/exercises though, since hockey's the only thing I'm really into.
Therefore: Thank you, hockey, for being there when I need some peace of mind.
.
. My condolences to you and your family.
