A few weeks ago my grand father died , from the last stages of disease.
His disease made him forget , himself , the people around him , his place in the world.
His disease made him lose his place as a man in this world . Each time his world broke a bit further down, the way he wanted to be seen in the world , the way he wanted to be percieved was shown for what it was in its core.
Pretence fell and the truth is laid bare. Strength and weaknesses gone.
As grandfather he was not there to play and fill my childhood memories good and bad. Later on he hoped to buy in that position to no avail. No that was not his role. His role was putting my father in his role. Being the adam father of cane and abel. Being the adam thrown out of paradise without knowing why. Trying to recreate it with cardboard boxes. His piece of paradise was with his wife , now joined back together in heaven.
In memory of George Maerten.
His book is closed , rested on the shelf.
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