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- I -

Eavesdropping

I should have just walked past.  It was none of my business.  Being the fool I was, I made it my business.  Sticking my nose in.

Sophie’s tears were not directed at me, were not spent in front of me.  Not this time.  Although she had cried, seeking my help, many times.  This time she was crying and confiding in someone else and I simply overheard.

I simply could not walk away.

It wasn’t as if the person she was confiding in was not sympathetic.  She was a caring and understanding person.  It was just that she did not understand as much as I did.  This was because I had experience.  Not the type of experience you would write on your CV.

I had knowledge.  So, I interrupted.  This sounds brazen as if I felt I was better to deal with the situation.  If truth be known, I was better equipped to deal with this.

People are afraid of medical terms and procedures – as I was.

Sophie was crying because her grandmother needed a blood transfusion.  It is a term that is very frightening and difficult to describe.

I interrupted because I could describe it.

I knew.

- II -

Explanation

I should have just walked past, but I couldn’t.

I interrupted.  People are frightened by illness and by terms they do not understand.

So, I told Sophie I understood, and I explained the procedure.  I told her how it didn’t hurt, that it did not cause any pain but that there was one major drawback.

It was soooooo boring.

It was then that we came up with the plan.

- III -

Relief

How can you help someone who is bored for hours and hours?

You can read to them, but if it was to be personal, which Sophie wanted it to be, you could read them a story you had written.

After that meeting Sophie and I met every lunchtime to write our stories.  If truth be known, I listened and I wrote down the words, the words of the stories.  Sophie was not very good at writing ideas down.  That did not mean she did not have ideas. 

So, I just listened – and together we wrote.

No Sweat

- I -

Pioneer

My Gran was the first woman to walk on the Moon.  She won a competition.  It was a lottery.  Everyone was surprised that she had entered, after all she was so old – about forty at least.  Despite all the chances, her name was drawn out.

Gran did the training at NASA.  She had never previously been outside the UK; suddenly she was off to America.

I would like to go to America.

I would like to go to Disneyland.

It took two years for the preparation.  Gran learnt how to float, how to eat tablets, how to pee into a bag (that made me laugh).  Gran was determined.  I always knew that. 

There was something about her.

We listened to the countdown and watched her rocket soar into the sky, through the sky, above the Earth, leaving Earth behind.  Leaving us behind.

We watched the launch and everybody cheered.  We watched the landing and everybody cheered.  I didn’t know that Gran could take such large steps.  On Earth she seemed to shuffle around.  On the Moon she was bounding.  We watched it all in our front room.  Apparently, the images came via a satellite dish in Australia.

I would like to go to Australia

I would like to see a Kangaroo.

*

**

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Some moments in life are magical and today held one of those moments.  Gran looked into the camera and I truly believe she was looking at me, and me alone.  Even though she was being watched by millions.

Gran waved and I, from our front room, waved back.

Everybody cheered – but the loudest cheer was when she came home and there was only three of us to cheer.

Gran took up her knitting where she had left off as if nothing had happened.

*

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That is how Sophie’s Gran became a pioneer.

- II -

Leader

I don’t know much about politics and, if truth be known, I don’t really want to know much.

I agreed with my Gran that politicians are always fighting and, at the end of the day, no-one could distinguish which politicians belonged to which party. 

Despite their colours, they were all grey.

In the run-up to the election, they all presented their manifestos (which were so long that nobody was interested in reading them). 

That was the point.

It started with a call to local Radio.  It was my Gran saying that she could do better than the faceless names that tried to represent her.  It was an aside, a joke, the presenter asked Gran why she didn’t stand herself.  Gran replied that she did not belong to a political party and was told that she didn’t have to.  Gran could be an Independent.

My Gran was always independent.

What started as a joke became real in her eyes and she launched her own party.

GRAN KNOWS BEST

Somebody tweeted it, somebody put it on Instagram, somebody launched it on Facebook.

It wasn’t Gran.

She didn’t even own a computer and her mobile phone was the size of our extension.  When you called her she shouted as if the connection was two tin cans and a piece of string.

Good old Gran.

She was asked what her policies were.  She did not have the technology to reply.  So, she instructed me to say one thing:-

‘Be kind to each other’

It went viral.

*

**

Gran couldn’t see it but I could.  It was a set-up.  She would be the butt of all their jokes but she was invited to take part in a political TV debate, standing against the leaders of all the major parties.  I tried to dissuade her, to warn her, but she took no heed.

The questions were batted around and, as always, there were no distinct answers – nobody said it as it was.  Nothing new.  They did not include Gran in their questioning.

Right at the end the presenter acknowledged her.  He seemed irritated at her presence.

Gran only had one policy – to be kind to one another.  She was asked how she would enforce this policy, how she would make it work.  Gran cited an example that:-

“People should not assume that everyone is alright”

There was a hush from the studio audience.

Upon being asked what people could do about this she simply replied.

“Biscuits should always be provided with tea”.

The audience erupted with laughter.

I did not want people to laugh at my Gran.

*

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It was a landslide victory.

Whether she had struck a chord or whether the others were off-tune.

*

**

My Gran was now Prime Minister.

*

**

That is how Sophie’s Gran became a leader.

- III -

Good Sport

My Gran had always been a tom-boy.  Her best friend was a lad and they spent most of their free-time together.

Except when the lads played football.  During these times Gran was side-lined, reduced to a spectator and never allowed to take part.

All she wanted to do was to play football.

She even understood the offside rule, although many of the lads did not.  They had no strategy, did not understand about placement of players, creating openings, defensive marking.  They simple ran after the ball in a pack from one side of the pitch to another, each one of them shouting for possession which, if gained, resulted in loss of the ball in a number of seconds.

They did not seem to notice that when the ball left the pitch, Gran would kick the ball back to them with an accuracy that they could never match.

They did not notice because Gran was a girl.

*

**

When the Scout came the lads were preening themselves as if they were peacocks.  It was not just the lads from the village but the surrounding ones too.  There was instant rivalry like rams butting heads, even though many had not even met their rivals before.

So, they didn’t notice the slight boy in the corner.  They did not give him a second glance.

The trial started with a short kick-around, showing passing skills.  Further tests considered stamina and manoeuvring into position.  Ball skills next – keepy uppy as the lads used to call it.  Finally, penalty shoot-outs with an outsider for the goalie – someone the Scout had brought along.

The session ended with a short match, one village against the next.  Fifteen minutes each way, the winners playing teams that had achieved the same.

The slight boy did not belong to a team.  This aroused curiosity in the Scout’s mind. 

Remarkably the local team made it through to the final.  The Scout considered it a battle of the losers.  There was no talent – except perhaps from the one they did not choose.

Curiosity got the better of him.  At half-time with not even the prospect of a goal in sight, the Scout announced a substitution.  The lads were horrified.  Which one of them would be replaced?  It was the centre forward – an aggressive thug both on and off the pitch.

His replacement was a slight boy who nobody knew.  They resented his presence, and at first, refused to pass to him, although noted the Scout, he always placed himself in the right place, eluding his marker.

There was five minutes to go.  The goalie botched his goal kick (which was nothing new) and the ball fell at the feet of the slight boy who was out in the open, because he was left out in the cold.  He dribbled past the defence, he dribbled past midfield.  He was onside – he knew the rules.  No-one could catch him for pace.

If was as if there were only two players on the pitch.  There was just him and the goalie, as if no-one else had partaken in the match.  The slight boy played a dummy and the goalie was defeated.

Back of the net.

*

**

When the final whistle blew the lads lifted up the slight boy in celebration.  However, he did not join in the fun in the dressing room afterwards, just picked up his bag – still in football kit – and started to slink off.

Noticing this the Scout ran after him, stating that he could have a great career in football.  The Scout was surprised at the negative response he received.

“No, I can’t”.

“You have so much potential – why not”?

*

**

“Because I am a girl”.

*

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The Scout remained in contact with Gran and helped her career in more ways than she thought possible.

Gran thought that the goal she scored that Saturday afternoon was the highlight of her playing career.

She was wrong.

Gran scored a hat-trick at Wembley, ensuring her team won the Ladies FA Cup.

*

**

That was how Sophie’s Gran became a good sport.

- IV -

Star

Apparently, every Thursday night, every teenager, every young adult tuned in.  For those fixated with numbers it was the ultimate show; progression – up/down/levelled.  There were statistics on the number of weeks, comparisons.  All this and more.

The more was glamour.

*

**

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Everyone’s gone …

*

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… Top of the Pops.

*

**

Gran started off in a girl group, four of them from the factory.  Something to pass the endless, boring time and something to attract the fellas on a Friday night at the Social Club.

*

**

It was what is defined as a novelty song.  It was caught on cine-film in black and white.  A punter sent it into a talent show.

Hughie Green – with Opportunity Knocking.

It was a simple song but it was a catchy song.  It could have been an entry for the Eurovision Song Contest.

But it was not.

*

**

It was a parody.

A joke.

A joke song.

A novelty song.

People laugh at jokes.  They were refreshing compared to all the other acts that took themselves too seriously.

The Clapometer reached the end when they ended their silly song.

Gran had a best mate who always did impressions of the management.  She had a sharp tongue and an even sharper wit.  She was the one that put the song together.

*

**

The Girl with the Shortest Mini-Skirt in the World

*

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They danced and they pranced, building up to the final line.

“She had forgotten to put her skirt on – she didn’t have a skirt on after all”

It was then the audience realised that the girls on camera didn’t have skirts on either!

The other acts were appalled at the reaction.  The positive reaction.  The girls won for three weeks and were offered a record deal.

They only made the one record.  Other ideas floundered so it became what is known as a one-hit wonder.  People soon got bored and they were soon forgotten.  Before they were forgotten they achieved something to be proud of, what all teenagers, what all young adults, aspired to.  It was the pinnacle of their short lives in show business.

*

**

Top of the Pops – one appearance only.

*

**

That was how Sophie’s Gran became a star.

Tears for Fears

- I -

Souvenirs

Sophie’s Gran died 8 months later from Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.  She was 62.

“No age, they say”.  Sophie was a teenager.  She did not understand age.

Sophie was distraught.  I was grateful that she turned to me for support.  She came to see me every lunchtime and we read the stories about her Gran.   It was as if these stories kept the memory of her in Sophie’s head.

Memories can be distorted.

Sophie came every lunchtime for weeks.  Then this dropped to two or three times a week.  The last lunchtime she popped her head round and said that she didn’t have time today but would come back soon.

*

**

Sophie never did come back.

Time is a great healer.

*

**

Now I was the one who felt sad, felt a loss.

- II -

Home Truths

Sophie’s Gran never even went on a plane in her life.

Sophie’s Gran never voted in her life.

Sophie’s Gran never kicked a football in her life.

Sophie’s Gran could not sing a note in her life.

*

**

However …

… 

Sophie’s Gran was a pioneer.

Sophie’s Gran was a leader.

Sophie’s Gran was a good sport.

Sophie’s Gran was a star.

*

**

Because Sophie’s Gran had an ordinary life.

An ordinary life being Sophie’s Gran.

*

**

She did enjoy knitting though.

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New Blood