Thin Ice

I've written before about my grandfather, but that was the one on my father's side, and now I want to tell you something about the other one. His name was John, and he was extremely resourceful but also a very gentle man. And did always have a joke on hand. Where all his funny stories came from was a mystery, and even in his 90's he made us laugh of something we'd never heard before.

This man was a hard working man, and he'd be outdoors whenever he could, riding his bike in summer and skiing in winter. When not working of course. Never complained about anything, and we almost lost him once when he'd fallen and hit his head without telling grandma, nor anyone else for that matter. Weeks later he started to be very disoriented and "senile". But luckily there were doctors who wouldn't settle for an age related diagnose, and they found out that he had a large clot of blood pressuring inside his skull. It was removed (the clot - not his skull!), he wore a funny wig for a couple of weeks, and was soon restored to his old giggly self and active life. This was sometime in the 80's, and he lived on for another twenty or so years, in the end without his dear Sonja, my lovely grandmother. (But her story will be for another day.)

Nothing could stop him, and at 85 he still rode his bike to the next town if the meatloaf was cheaper there. Not because he was cheap, he just liked the challenge. He also carried a great love for fishing, all year round, and that was actually the inspiration for this post.

No one could walk on ice like he could, no one else would dare to step out on as thin ice as he did. That got me thinking. You have to be careful. Obviously. But you would also have to be planning ahead, knowing your surroundings and the elements; where the currents are, the depths and shallows. Avoiding the weaker areas where the reeds grow. In a sense you have to communicate with the ice, listen to sounds it makes when it's under too much pressure. With any squealing or cracking noise you'd better stop, relax and then step back a little. At least the ice was safe where you came from. And then you'd find a safer route, if possible. If not - you'd just go back home, and then try again another day. There's always later.

And maybe his granddaughter will walk on water too one day.