Beautiful, beautiful boy
Without Prejudice
I stood hesitating deciding on the shoes, should I buy another pair or not. Suddenly a hand descended on my shoulder and I whirled around in fright. Zach stood there looming over me and laughing at me.
" I saw your car and knew you were in here"
I looked up at him and also laughed, surprised and delighted.
My beautiful, beautiful grandson Zachary, almost 18 now, tall, decent, neat Zach.
The pronouncer of the family, the collector of movies, the placid, the kind. Zach was, is and will always be a great kid. He's there when you need him.
He was a gorgeous kid. He loved the word dead. Everything was dead. The tree was dead, the bird was dead. He was fascinated with doors and the word, dead. He was solemn, big brown eyes and a blonde shaved head. Grave. Wise beyond his years. He wants to be a Policeman, a dog handler. No one would make a better one.
He carries my parcels as we return to the car. I glance over at him and my heart and eyes fill a little. How lucky I am to have Zach in my life. I know I am being sentimental. It's almost Christmas and I have just had therapy. Last night Kyle came out to the unit, holding his baby and I wanted to cry then too. Am I so fragile that I want to cry when I see my beautiful grandson with his son.
They have been through so much these boys. Simon and Yvette's boys. And yet, they are all ok. Don't drink, touch drugs or hate the world. And yet they have every reason to do so. A Dad that is never there, that makes promises to stay straight, stay clean, stay sober and never can.
They have never had one Christmas with him, never seen him straight, never kicked a football with him around a back yard. And they love and despair of him. I have never seen any of them cry over him, except Kyle once at 14. Who raged at him over the phone.
"Why can't you be normal?"
Kyle who took on his Fathers role when he was 5. Zach was born then, and he wanted to kill him on the first day, so jealous he was of the new baby. But he named him. Zach, after his favourite Power Ranger. And dressed in white Lycra as him. Gold slashes across his shoulders.
By the time he was 10 he ran the family. He took care of his "Band of Brothers" and Mother, never wanting her to have another man in her life.
"Aren't we enough?", he asked, at 10, gesturing at his brothers.
He looked after Brock as Brock was asthmatic. Making sure he was covered warmly and bringing him inside after 4pm. Kyle that crossed 3 states on a bus on his own to get back home and not be taken into care like his younger brothers had been. At 10 with $20 in the pocket of his jeans. No mum, no Dad. And that Christmas Yvette his Mum decided to leave Simon for good.
And Alena and I were able to get her housed and then rehoused here to the house she is in now. Eight years of stability for them now. Zach us having the studio that gets built here in the backyard in January, next to my unit. We talk of it as we drive home. He has his leaners and doesnt want to drive my manual. Prefers an automatic he states firmly.
I walk the neighbourhood with him to show him a similar unit to the one he is getting. A teenagers retreat. He will love it. Being able to allow his neatness to stay that way. I warn him he will need to keep the door firmly locked. He has already thought of it and asks about a fence. We, he and I will have a side gate of our own by then. Never having to go past the windows and doors to the house. Our own private gate and path. No one seeing us go in or out.
He will be licenced then. He turns 18 in January. At least the weather will be hot and dry for the builders to come in. Not like when my unit was built. It was June, then, freezing and wet and the mud was every where. But I didn't care as it was mine, mud everywhere or not. Mud hoses off anyway.
I remember the moving day as if it was yesterday and not 3 years ago, nearly.
All I knew was that it was mine, mine, mine and mine for life. Zach's remains his for 15 years, and by then I assume he will be married and gone. It will have a lounge room, bedroom, maybe two, and a bathroom. It's own power and heating. No kitchen because of health and safety restraints on kids. But he can have a microwave, toaster, kettle, grill and use my oven for the teenage boy requirements if "real food", pies, chips, spring rolls.
He will love it. And as he lopes beside me, a tall, lanky figure, matching and slowing his footsteps to mine my heart hums with pleasure. God gave him to us and he loves and is loved and I know he will be with me here for a long time and I could not ask for much more than that. My beautiful, beautiful boy.
Love Nanny x
I stood hesitating deciding on the shoes, should I buy another pair or not. Suddenly a hand descended on my shoulder and I whirled around in fright. Zach stood there looming over me and laughing at me.
" I saw your car and knew you were in here"
I looked up at him and also laughed, surprised and delighted.
My beautiful, beautiful grandson Zachary, almost 18 now, tall, decent, neat Zach.
The pronouncer of the family, the collector of movies, the placid, the kind. Zach was, is and will always be a great kid. He's there when you need him.
He was a gorgeous kid. He loved the word dead. Everything was dead. The tree was dead, the bird was dead. He was fascinated with doors and the word, dead. He was solemn, big brown eyes and a blonde shaved head. Grave. Wise beyond his years. He wants to be a Policeman, a dog handler. No one would make a better one.
He carries my parcels as we return to the car. I glance over at him and my heart and eyes fill a little. How lucky I am to have Zach in my life. I know I am being sentimental. It's almost Christmas and I have just had therapy. Last night Kyle came out to the unit, holding his baby and I wanted to cry then too. Am I so fragile that I want to cry when I see my beautiful grandson with his son.
They have been through so much these boys. Simon and Yvette's boys. And yet, they are all ok. Don't drink, touch drugs or hate the world. And yet they have every reason to do so. A Dad that is never there, that makes promises to stay straight, stay clean, stay sober and never can.
They have never had one Christmas with him, never seen him straight, never kicked a football with him around a back yard. And they love and despair of him. I have never seen any of them cry over him, except Kyle once at 14. Who raged at him over the phone.
"Why can't you be normal?"
Kyle who took on his Fathers role when he was 5. Zach was born then, and he wanted to kill him on the first day, so jealous he was of the new baby. But he named him. Zach, after his favourite Power Ranger. And dressed in white Lycra as him. Gold slashes across his shoulders.
By the time he was 10 he ran the family. He took care of his "Band of Brothers" and Mother, never wanting her to have another man in her life.
"Aren't we enough?", he asked, at 10, gesturing at his brothers.
He looked after Brock as Brock was asthmatic. Making sure he was covered warmly and bringing him inside after 4pm. Kyle that crossed 3 states on a bus on his own to get back home and not be taken into care like his younger brothers had been. At 10 with $20 in the pocket of his jeans. No mum, no Dad. And that Christmas Yvette his Mum decided to leave Simon for good.
And Alena and I were able to get her housed and then rehoused here to the house she is in now. Eight years of stability for them now. Zach us having the studio that gets built here in the backyard in January, next to my unit. We talk of it as we drive home. He has his leaners and doesnt want to drive my manual. Prefers an automatic he states firmly.
I walk the neighbourhood with him to show him a similar unit to the one he is getting. A teenagers retreat. He will love it. Being able to allow his neatness to stay that way. I warn him he will need to keep the door firmly locked. He has already thought of it and asks about a fence. We, he and I will have a side gate of our own by then. Never having to go past the windows and doors to the house. Our own private gate and path. No one seeing us go in or out.
He will be licenced then. He turns 18 in January. At least the weather will be hot and dry for the builders to come in. Not like when my unit was built. It was June, then, freezing and wet and the mud was every where. But I didn't care as it was mine, mud everywhere or not. Mud hoses off anyway.
I remember the moving day as if it was yesterday and not 3 years ago, nearly.
All I knew was that it was mine, mine, mine and mine for life. Zach's remains his for 15 years, and by then I assume he will be married and gone. It will have a lounge room, bedroom, maybe two, and a bathroom. It's own power and heating. No kitchen because of health and safety restraints on kids. But he can have a microwave, toaster, kettle, grill and use my oven for the teenage boy requirements if "real food", pies, chips, spring rolls.
He will love it. And as he lopes beside me, a tall, lanky figure, matching and slowing his footsteps to mine my heart hums with pleasure. God gave him to us and he loves and is loved and I know he will be with me here for a long time and I could not ask for much more than that. My beautiful, beautiful boy.
Love Nanny x
