The Hours
I’ve been waiting to come back to this in some spectacular fashion, to have something big to write about but it’s not happening. I’ve got the jitters just sitting here in front of a keyboard thinking about writing again – that’s how bad it’s gotten. I put such pressure on myself.
In the intervening hours, we’ve moved back in with TSO’s elderly father and renovated half the family home. It’s strange, living with an elderly relative – something I never thought I’d do, to be honest. I’d have to say that having Rory with us has made it much, much easier than it could be. I’ve discovered just how similar babies and the elderly are, for one thing, but Rory’s attitude and unstinting cheerfulness is definitely a beacon on the days when it’s not so easy. And I’m not saying it’s that hard, exactly, it’s just kind of…God, what is it?! He’s quite a singular old fella, my pa-in-law – an ex naval-man from WWII. Bred off Scots parents in Oamaru in the deep south – like many from that area and indeed those from Scotland, his outlook seems shaped by long hours of rainy, grey days, bitter winds and general natural mirk.
I’m predisposed to understanding this, being from the old Scotland myself, but at times I have to say that I struggle when confronted with someone so deeply like myself, to be honest. His outlook on world affairs is a handy example. Say he reads first thing in the morning, about an earthquake killing 1200 in Mexico: he can’t wait to tell it and when he does there’s a certain twinkle in the eye, a certain flourish in the delivery suggesting he’s almost happy with the result! I remember this from Scotland – it’s a sort of “aye, thats a thoosand away in Mexico. Deed. Earthquake” delivered with a smile and wry shake of the head. I think you’d say we’re fatalistic in our worldview but I’m nonetheless amazed to see that these traits transcend geography – that a Scots couple can move way down here – about as far from Scotland as you can physically get without space travel options – have kids, and they still look at things with a grey cloud! Genetics is a strong, strong force!
A little on the grumpy side by nature, PIL (Pa-In-Law as he shall henceforth be known) was never going to be the cuddly, touchyfeely grampa to Rory so we were curious to see what exactly their relationship would be. Rory approached him at first with caution, then with amusement and finally antagonism. He saw how nervous and on edge Grampa was around him, worrying about him getting burned on the heater, tripping on the carpet, anything at all happening, basically, and a curious thing happened (for an under-2). He started to take the piss. He’d hang a wavering hand over the radiator as Grampa turned blue and apoplectic shouting ‘no, no, HOT HOT. Now Rory knows full well not to touch a heater and the look on his face as he watches Gramps’ agony suggests nothing but pure, unadulterated cheek and impudence. He can’t even TALK! Other times we’ll tell him to “shush, Grampa’s sleeping” only to find him 5 minutes later, grampa’s door shoved wide open, standing staring at a prostrate OAP roaring at the pitch of his lungs “PEMPAAAAAA, PEMPAAAAA”. He refers to this old man in the back room of his house as “Pempa,” incidentally. Far more cute.
There are other behavioural similarities: They’re both needy. They both refuse to eat vegetables. They’re both prone to sulking when their own way is not freely given. They both wake up double-grumpy and excessively tousled from naps. They’d both live on candy if one wasn’t a diabetic and the other way too young. They both sneak candy behind our backs – often together. They both love fish and chips like it was haute cuisine. The ways are many.
Overall, due to Pempa’s emotionally distant ways and Rory’s utterly emotional availability, they have achieved some kind of perfect balance and their relationship is actually quite nice. We’re pretty glad that they have this time to make any kind of relationship at all and, on days when living with someone’s dad gets a bit heavy, a bit un-private, their relationship is the anchor that I cling to.
