From the memories of a young child......

My Grandmother (on my father's side of the family) remarried a few years after my Grandfather died. I think it was the same year that I was born and the new husband's name was Ted; we were brought up to call him "Uncle Ted". I remember as a child, visiting my Grandmother and Uncle Ted at home. He had never married and except for the Second World War he had never travelled nor had any grand plans for the future. He didn't drive a car and was happy to catch a bus or train where ever he went saying that it gave him the opportunity to make new acquaintances among people. Uncle Ted was a gentle man, about 5'6", very slender and quietly spoken and each time we would visit he would give us ten cents each to walk up to the old corner store to buy something nice. Now ten cents was a lot of money back in those days and I can remember thinking that he must have been the richest man in the world lol. He and my grandmother would sit smoking and enjoying a beer together, I don't think that he was an alcoholic but I can never remember visiting them and he was not sitting drinking his beer lol. Sober he was a softly spoken gentleman; after a few beers he became a jovial and witty man and a good laugh that obviously enjoyed having visitors. Uncle Ted's life was not one of discontent, his days were filled with work at Rothmans Tobacco, a job he had been employed in for some 30 years; you see he was a product of the Great Depression where one valued, guarded and respected employment, which had been rare back then. If you ever visited him he would sit in the loungeroom, and ask questions about school. As a seven year old my brother, sister and I would try to make awkward conversation with him, painfully aware of the generations that separated us although it seemed to me that he did try hard to make us feel comfortable and welcome; he simply lacked experience and social skills with children and didn't know how to go about it until several beers later lol.

In the 60's he was diagnosed with Tuberculosis and the doctors removed his left lung but this did not stop him from smoking or drinking however in 1980 his body gave out, undoubtedly worn down from years of abuse and my Grandmother found him deceased in his bed. He had died peacefully from pneumonia. One of his daily rituals was to read the newspaper, which were published morning and afternoon back then. He once told us children that what ever the working man needed to know could be found in the newpapers and he always encouraged us children to read and write, that was the one subject he appeared comfortable talking about. Looking back now perhaps underneath the outward show of drinking, working and jovial ten-cent-give-aways was a man who understood the value of education yet never had the chance himself, I was never really sure, but he was certainly enthused about it from the way he talked. The only advice that I remember receiving from him was about creative writing to which he said that the stories were not what was important so much as the way it was written.

When you look back on your life it is amazing where encouragement came from, the most unlikely voices or incidents, but as an adult I realize that it takes all sorts of people in all kinds of ways to inspire courage and confidence within us. Then as you grow through life the little snippets of advice from ever age join together to foster a skill.
Have a good weekend everyone