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On the third of january my Grandad - Ernest Charles Henry Mizen lost his battle to brain cancer and died peacefully with his two sons and wife of 50 years by his side.
My grandad was not only one of the closest and most loved members of my family, he was also my friend.
I never showed him this but i made it about a year before he died. It pretty much sums gramps up.
God bless you Grandad and thankyou
-Grampa.
Gramps. His feet wide and clumpy moving across the earth with as much finesse as a man with his feet tied to badminton rackets. His short legs bent and peculiar. Running from a pair ribbed brown socks filled by a pair of swollen ankles to a puffy and most unusual knee due to various degree’s of shabby surgery.
His strong wide thighs due to the many years of such extreme activities like swimming, gymnastics and D.I.Y. Now his body couldn’t deal with such luxuries , though his mind screams to RUN!
I can completely wrap myself around him yet my hands still wouldn’t meet! His belly hard and projected due to further operations. The long scar that ranges from his belly button downwards proving he has not just over indulged (Although now that
is one of his most favoured things)
His tanned skin – rough and weathered like leather. A most metamorphic point due to the harsh sun and difficult years in Egypt for a young English man of 18. His body is a map. Or a book of history. The traces of things that have been – like his one finger without a nail from another nasty Do It Yourself accident.
His face has changed like his mind – it has grown and expanded. Things have altered. His warm eyes overpowered by bushy eyebrows of dark grey, wrinkles and lines travelling round his face. The ‘suitcases’ under his eyes – probably due to lack of sleep caused by his breathing condition. Amazingly though, old features still mark him; with a full head of thick hair and a full set of gleaming teeth – bold and strong.
There is no one like Grandad on this earth. His stern authority as a man, His role as the focal point of my family. His wisdom. My Godfather once said anyone of any age can talk to him and he would click like he if the same minority. Yet, watching someone his grandchild act on a stage could bring him to tears. His comical actions and saying from his cockney London roots bring warmth and individuality.
He loves his new car. The metallic blue shimmer and sound of his roaring Daewoo… The ‘POWER BOOST’ button he demands he shows off so he is ‘hip’.
But for someone so strong, there are three things he relies on and couldn’t do without. His two sticks and my lovely Nan. She is his right arm and put them together that’s a relationship the young dream about.
After all, a life and a person is special.
Gramps.
My grandad was not only one of the closest and most loved members of my family, he was also my friend.
I never showed him this but i made it about a year before he died. It pretty much sums gramps up.
God bless you Grandad and thankyou
-Grampa.
Gramps. His feet wide and clumpy moving across the earth with as much finesse as a man with his feet tied to badminton rackets. His short legs bent and peculiar. Running from a pair ribbed brown socks filled by a pair of swollen ankles to a puffy and most unusual knee due to various degree’s of shabby surgery.
His strong wide thighs due to the many years of such extreme activities like swimming, gymnastics and D.I.Y. Now his body couldn’t deal with such luxuries , though his mind screams to RUN!
I can completely wrap myself around him yet my hands still wouldn’t meet! His belly hard and projected due to further operations. The long scar that ranges from his belly button downwards proving he has not just over indulged (Although now that
is one of his most favoured things)
His tanned skin – rough and weathered like leather. A most metamorphic point due to the harsh sun and difficult years in Egypt for a young English man of 18. His body is a map. Or a book of history. The traces of things that have been – like his one finger without a nail from another nasty Do It Yourself accident.
His face has changed like his mind – it has grown and expanded. Things have altered. His warm eyes overpowered by bushy eyebrows of dark grey, wrinkles and lines travelling round his face. The ‘suitcases’ under his eyes – probably due to lack of sleep caused by his breathing condition. Amazingly though, old features still mark him; with a full head of thick hair and a full set of gleaming teeth – bold and strong.
There is no one like Grandad on this earth. His stern authority as a man, His role as the focal point of my family. His wisdom. My Godfather once said anyone of any age can talk to him and he would click like he if the same minority. Yet, watching someone his grandchild act on a stage could bring him to tears. His comical actions and saying from his cockney London roots bring warmth and individuality.
He loves his new car. The metallic blue shimmer and sound of his roaring Daewoo… The ‘POWER BOOST’ button he demands he shows off so he is ‘hip’.
But for someone so strong, there are three things he relies on and couldn’t do without. His two sticks and my lovely Nan. She is his right arm and put them together that’s a relationship the young dream about.
After all, a life and a person is special.
Gramps.
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Thankyou guys.
It doesnt seem real you know. Although for the last months of his life I jnew he would die because it was inevitable - you can never ever be prepared enough or know deep down.
My Grandad was one of the most amazing men I will ever meet. I want him back, but he was suffering. To see a man that was so proud and so self respectful reduced to his state was geartbreaking so i am pleased he is not in pain no more.
He was a close friend of mine. No ordinary grandad.
The nurses at the hospice were love;y. They said that he never once complained and moaned even in his worst state. He was a gentlemen till the end and battled on living 30 hours after he should of died to oxygen deprivation.
Over forty people turned up to the funeral yesterday, he was a truly genuine popular guy.
I love him and miss him but I am blessed to have ever known him and be his eldest grandchild
It doesnt seem real you know. Although for the last months of his life I jnew he would die because it was inevitable - you can never ever be prepared enough or know deep down.
My Grandad was one of the most amazing men I will ever meet. I want him back, but he was suffering. To see a man that was so proud and so self respectful reduced to his state was geartbreaking so i am pleased he is not in pain no more.
He was a close friend of mine. No ordinary grandad.
The nurses at the hospice were love;y. They said that he never once complained and moaned even in his worst state. He was a gentlemen till the end and battled on living 30 hours after he should of died to oxygen deprivation.
Over forty people turned up to the funeral yesterday, he was a truly genuine popular guy.
I love him and miss him but I am blessed to have ever known him and be his eldest grandchild
That was lovely, Ginge! Bet he would've really liked that.. very special. ;)
That was a good'un.
I'm finding it really hard to find the suitable thing to write here so I will keep it short.
That is the best thing I have ever read.
That is the best thing I have ever read.
My sympathies Ginge. It's terrible to lose someone you are so close to. Hope you're ok.
On the third of january my Grandad - Ernest Charles Henry Mizen lost his battle to brain cancer and died peacefully with his two sons and wife of 50 years by his side.
My grandad was not only one of the closest and most loved members of my family, he was also my friend.
I never showed him this but i made it about a year before he died. It pretty much sums gramps up.
God bless you Grandad and thankyou
-Grampa.
Gramps. His feet wide and clumpy moving across the earth with as much finesse as a man with his feet tied to badminton rackets. His short legs bent and peculiar. Running from a pair ribbed brown socks filled by a pair of swollen ankles to a puffy and most unusual knee due to various degree’s of shabby surgery.
His strong wide thighs due to the many years of such extreme activities like swimming, gymnastics and D.I.Y. Now his body couldn’t deal with such luxuries , though his mind screams to RUN!
I can completely wrap myself around him yet my hands still wouldn’t meet! His belly hard and projected due to further operations. The long scar that ranges from his belly button downwards proving he has not just over indulged (Although now that
is one of his most favoured things)
His tanned skin – rough and weathered like leather. A most metamorphic point due to the harsh sun and difficult years in Egypt for a young English man of 18. His body is a map. Or a book of history. The traces of things that have been – like his one finger without a nail from another nasty Do It Yourself accident.
His face has changed like his mind – it has grown and expanded. Things have altered. His warm eyes overpowered by bushy eyebrows of dark grey, wrinkles and lines travelling round his face. The ‘suitcases’ under his eyes – probably due to lack of sleep caused by his breathing condition. Amazingly though, old features still mark him; with a full head of thick hair and a full set of gleaming teeth – bold and strong.
There is no one like Grandad on this earth. His stern authority as a man, His role as the focal point of my family. His wisdom. My Godfather once said anyone of any age can talk to him and he would click like he if the same minority. Yet, watching someone his grandchild act on a stage could bring him to tears. His comical actions and saying from his cockney London roots bring warmth and individuality.
He loves his new car. The metallic blue shimmer and sound of his roaring Daewoo… The ‘POWER BOOST’ button he demands he shows off so he is ‘hip’.
But for someone so strong, there are three things he relies on and couldn’t do without. His two sticks and my lovely Nan. She is his right arm and put them together that’s a relationship the young dream about.
After all, a life and a person is special.
Gramps.
My grandad was not only one of the closest and most loved members of my family, he was also my friend.
I never showed him this but i made it about a year before he died. It pretty much sums gramps up.
God bless you Grandad and thankyou
-Grampa.
Gramps. His feet wide and clumpy moving across the earth with as much finesse as a man with his feet tied to badminton rackets. His short legs bent and peculiar. Running from a pair ribbed brown socks filled by a pair of swollen ankles to a puffy and most unusual knee due to various degree’s of shabby surgery.
His strong wide thighs due to the many years of such extreme activities like swimming, gymnastics and D.I.Y. Now his body couldn’t deal with such luxuries , though his mind screams to RUN!
I can completely wrap myself around him yet my hands still wouldn’t meet! His belly hard and projected due to further operations. The long scar that ranges from his belly button downwards proving he has not just over indulged (Although now that
is one of his most favoured things)
His tanned skin – rough and weathered like leather. A most metamorphic point due to the harsh sun and difficult years in Egypt for a young English man of 18. His body is a map. Or a book of history. The traces of things that have been – like his one finger without a nail from another nasty Do It Yourself accident.
His face has changed like his mind – it has grown and expanded. Things have altered. His warm eyes overpowered by bushy eyebrows of dark grey, wrinkles and lines travelling round his face. The ‘suitcases’ under his eyes – probably due to lack of sleep caused by his breathing condition. Amazingly though, old features still mark him; with a full head of thick hair and a full set of gleaming teeth – bold and strong.
There is no one like Grandad on this earth. His stern authority as a man, His role as the focal point of my family. His wisdom. My Godfather once said anyone of any age can talk to him and he would click like he if the same minority. Yet, watching someone his grandchild act on a stage could bring him to tears. His comical actions and saying from his cockney London roots bring warmth and individuality.
He loves his new car. The metallic blue shimmer and sound of his roaring Daewoo… The ‘POWER BOOST’ button he demands he shows off so he is ‘hip’.
But for someone so strong, there are three things he relies on and couldn’t do without. His two sticks and my lovely Nan. She is his right arm and put them together that’s a relationship the young dream about.
After all, a life and a person is special.
Gramps.
Page: