Thursday 16 June 2011

Good on ya Gabe

My paternal Grandad was Gabriel Condon. Gabe was a man's man the way I remember it.

Before I was born he was a share farmer at Tyagerah. He was a grader driver when I was a kid. He was a patient thoughtful man, I never once heard him pack a sad or lose his temper. He was a solid lump of a bloke with a face etched with lines from the sun. His hands showed work, lots of work.


Grandad used to whistle tunes all the time, once in a while he'd pull out his harmonica and play a tune for all the grandkids. We used to visit him for the Christmas holidays at his house in Murwillumbah, so naturally he'd do a Christmas tune like as not. The one I best remember learning from Grandad was six white boomers.



Anyways, time passed as it does and Grandad got old. He made 88 which is a damn fine innings, then he peacefully passed away on the 8/10/2000. This was a man who lived from the age of the horse and sulky right through to the information age. He saw wars, peace, the conquest of space, incredible advancements in medical science and technology and more things than I can even imagine. He sat at the head of the table and watched a whole huge tribe of grandkids and great grandkids grow up. But he always had time to let me sit on his knee and tell me a story about the olden days or sing an old song or recite a poem.


Well I reckon I'd like to be a Grandad sort of grandad. Ya know, never lose my lolly always have time for the nippers and whistle tunes all the time.

Good on ya Gabe, say g'day to the saints and angels for us and play yer harmonica as often as ya like.
  
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