Gran
My grandfather had a small stroke last week and now one of his ankles is paralyzed. After a depressing day or two, he got a splint and is, by all accounts, quite happily mobile again. Gran was a doctor and has always looked after himself quite well — a brisk walk each day after lunch, a balanced diet, all his shots, quitting smoking at 80, etc. but I think genetics are primarily responsible for his living to this ripe age of 96. His sister, Shula, is still alive too, despite a several-pack-a-day habit.
Gran more or less retired when he was around seventy and has filled the last quarter of his life by writing every day. He writes stories, essays, observations, and his memoir (three times). He writes so much, in fact, that he has worn out a half dozen word processors (he's not a computer man) and produced enormous stacks of work, many of which he has hand-bound with shirt cardboard and wrapping paper.
For most of his life, Gran certainly never would have called himself 'a writer'. He was a doctor — he got his degree in Germany in the early '30's, then, when Jews weren't allowed to practice medicine under Hitler, he went to Rome and took his degree all over again; then he fled to India where he and my grandmother had a practice in what became Pakistan for 35 years or so, and finally moved onto his current home in Jerusalem. He and my grandmother published a book on diet in the late 1940s but I have never heard that he did anything but work at medicine until he retired. Still, his passion for writing seems like something that must have alway been burning deep inside him. As soon as he earned the luxury of spare time, he didn't head for the golf course or the local saloon. He started to write. Early in the morning and late at night, his fingers clattered over the keys, and the piles of paper began to stack up.
I tend to think of 9/11 as this enormously defining moment, one that has made me reconsider the possibility of a long life. Seeing the Twin Towers collapsing a mile from my home flicked some switch deep within. Ever since, like many Americans, I have assumed that life suddenly became a lot more finite.
Gran lived through 9/11. He also survived the Flu epidemic and World War I. He lived through the Holocaust (but many of his relatives didn't). He survived 6 years in a British internment camp where he and my grandmother, mother and uncle were incarcerated because they were of German origin. He survived the Bangladesh War which split his adopted country. He endured the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan, just to the west. He lived though Yom Kippur War in a bomb shelter. He made it through the Gulf Wars when Scud missiles were aimed at his home; his gas mask is still in the coat closet. He survived the endless Palestine-Israel conflict – the barbed wire and barriers are visible from his living room window. He survived the death of his wife after more than a half century of marriage and partnership. And despite all of that, he is still here, in his walker and splint, keys still clattering.
How long will your life last? Have you got seventy five years left? Or a day? So what are you waiting for? When will you allow yourself to be creative, to be the person you have always wanted to be? Can you overcome the trauma of the news and have faith in the future? Can you make things not to be famous (Gran has no books on the bestseller list) or rich (Gran's writings haven't earned a shekel) or influential (Gran has had a half dozen readers at most) but just because you must? When are your keys going to start clattering?
A record of my exploration into all aspects of drawing, illustrated journaling, creativity, and the inspiring aspects of art. By the author of "Everyday Matters," "The Creative License", and "An Illustrated Life" and other books.
Comments
Thank you. I needed that.
Posted by: Susan | March 5, 2006 03:13 AM
Hey Danny,
Your Gran sounds like an amazing man. What an inspiration, he's lived through so much, so many hardships and I'm sure so many wonderful moments as well. It sounds like this stroke is just another minor setback for him. Time to get my keys (and pens) clattering.
Best, Mac
Posted by: Mac | March 5, 2006 06:30 PM
Sounds like you've got a wonderful grandfather (though after reading your post, I'd be tempted to call him "Zaddie" - yiddish for grandfather).
A refuah shlema - complete healing - for your granfather.
- avrum
Toronto, Canada
Posted by: avrum68 | March 5, 2006 08:01 PM
lately I haven't been able to have any faith in the future and it's been actually stopping me from creating because I feel so hopeless. thank you for bringing up this discussion and reminding me of possibilities.
Posted by: Soren | March 5, 2006 11:20 PM
Thank you Danny, what a wonderful reminder of what we all need to be doing!!!
CKP
Posted by: CKP | March 5, 2006 11:25 PM
When are your keys going to start clattering?
You have done it again for me, Danny. I am indebted to you. Above copied out and post on my bulletin board.
P.S. I am enjoying your latest book. Kudos.
Posted by: Babs | March 5, 2006 11:41 PM
Like Robert de Niro said: Are you talking to me? Haha.
Well,I felt like you were shaking me a little in those last 5 lines.
I feel like writing a poem right now, would you like to read it?
Posted by: Christina Trevino | March 6, 2006 12:20 AM
Danny, what a wonderful story. My mother recently died at 95, but she no longer was capable. It sounds as though your Gran is wonderful. What a challenge to work toward...to write not for gold nor fame no influence, but to write, or to draw or paint, or sing or dance, because we must. Thank you.
Posted by: Sioux | March 6, 2006 12:36 AM
Renewed perspective. Thanks!
Posted by: Fluff | March 6, 2006 03:45 AM
After just visiting my 83 year old mother and seeing her frailties increasing; after watching 2 friends become ill with breast cancer; after experiencing the swiftness of time through the growth of my children and grandchildren, your post, as always, Danny, is RIGHT ON.
My art now, both writing and sketching, is about my personal world, my thoughts, feelings, ideas, hopes, living, and kept in my journals.
The time is now... this breath is all we know we have.
Blessings for a continual reminder to WAKE UP.
Posted by: Lin | March 6, 2006 06:54 AM
What an incredible legacy. We should all be so determined.
Posted by: Frieda | March 6, 2006 07:49 AM
Danny, I'm sorry your grandfather has had health problems recently. It sounds as though he's bounced back amazingly well. Good for him! And for you.
Ever since my father's death in September, I've been overwhelmed with the urge to live every single moment as well as I can, to take steps to meet my goals, to realize my dreams, to draw, paint, travel, learn to ski, show my family and friends how much I love them, read, redesign my garden, put my literal and metaphorical houses in order. I really feel as though I don't have a moment to waste and, without being too manic about it, I'm making that my primary assumption. Because, as you say, who knows how many days we have?
Posted by: Laura | March 6, 2006 08:27 AM
Thank you for sharing this...what a man. I just returned from eldersitting my parents (75 & 78) and my Nana who is 98 years young. It is such a blessing for me to hear and witness Nana's life stories. Everyday matters. May I be ripe with life at that stage of my life.
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March 6, 2006 08:40 AM
thanks for the story. hearing about the events that gran has endured quickly puts my "problems" in perspective and inspires me to keep creating. even though i know better, i still occasionally get sidetracked by minutiae and waste valuable time. your website keeps me on track. thanks
Posted by: brian dilorenzo | March 6, 2006 10:18 AM
Here's another perfect example of the way in which Danny, in his books, drawings, website, all the teachings, keeps trying -- and succeeding -- in inspiring people to express themselves, Goll darnit! One may not have the financial means, or life circumstances, to give up a dayjob you dislike, but you CAN certainly turn around, every day if you so choose, and find richness in your life, and express yourself. And it's great that Danny helps so many folks, including me, to do that.
Posted by: Scott Clugstone | March 6, 2006 01:55 PM
What a legacy, What must be contained within the pages of those books! Thanks for the inspiration, again.
Posted by: s'mee | March 7, 2006 11:16 AM
Thank you for this post.
Posted by: Lisa M | March 7, 2006 11:41 AM
Three years ago my husband died. He was 53, I was about to turn 50. It has been quite an adjustment but certainly a wake-up call to be sure. It is an over used phrase but a true one... "Life is just too short!" The one gift I cherish from the sad experience is that there is no past, and no future... there is only now and I realized that this was my opportunity to not waste one moment.
I admire your grandfather and grandmother. Thank you for sharing your piece for it only validates that we must not only live life to our fullest potential we must live it fearlessly.
Posted by: Sandy | March 7, 2006 02:48 PM
My grandfather just died this past week. His story couldn't be more different. A railroad crane operator in middle America his entire life... I don't think he ever travelled abroad. He was a sketcher until he had a family, then he never drew again. The colored pencil drawing of his that hangs in my dining room is a prized posession.
Posted by: Ken McCarthy | March 7, 2006 05:53 PM
I love this story!
Posted by: deb | March 7, 2006 10:16 PM
Your reflections give example to the thing called life. What is it all about? This living here and now? Why some die young and others live full rich lives noticed by few? Why some endure difficult paths and still shine bright of hope and love?
Your words put the key in the door and roar TURN and enter!!
Posted by: Tongue in Cheek | March 8, 2006 03:01 AM
So this gift you have of inspiring others must be genetic, right? I love this post. It complements the book I'm finally reading for the first time and enjoying so much: If You Want to Write by Brenda Euland. Thanks!
Posted by: Nina | March 8, 2006 08:18 AM
i needed that last paragraph. not so much about creating to be rich and famous but i've recently been caught with the "i have no talent" bug and has somewhat hindered me from creating. i'm pushing hard to get over it, though. with or without talent, i must.
Posted by: yc | March 23, 2006 08:38 PM
I'm writing from my second computer. My other address is in Anahuac. Wrote you about D. Price's visit there. I want to be able to check ur blog from both locations.
Your gran is a year younger than moi. I definitely don't have 71 years left but I have started sketching again after Price's visit and reading Everyday Matters and the creativity book. Terribly rusty but each sketch is more presentable.
Posted by: Doris Mouton | March 31, 2006 10:00 AM
OK, I thought your Gran was born in 1935. My mistake. I do hope he is doing well at this writing. Lets start over. I was born in 1934. Anyway, love your blog.
Doris Mouton
Posted by: Doris Mouton | April 9, 2006 07:21 PM
Surprised, not insulted, by the mixup in age discrepancy. I reread the post about your gran and saw how I assumed he was born in 1935. It was the portrain you did of him. At 71, it makes me ffel like a spring chicken.
Adore your work, including any off-color examples of repetition with variation. You and Dan Price inspire me to sketch again. In his Moonlight Chronicles Book you wrote, "Know when to stop." Although I apply that to watercolors, never occurred to me to apply it to sketches. Makes a world of difference in them.
Posted by: Doris Mouton | April 12, 2006 09:10 AM