Monday, May 30, 2005

Summer of 1972

Tonight I popped in my DVD of Pink Floyd Live in Pompeii. As I was reading the back of the case, I noticed the original film was made in 1972. A lot of the movie seemed like a parody of This is Spinal Tap which is a movie that is a parody about movies like Pink Floyd Live in Pompeii. My God, David Gilmore was a beautiful man. At this moment, that's all I remember about the DVD.

Perhaps the melancholy of coming down off a five day steroid high is finally setting in or it was the right time for me to experience a rush of nostalgia. The summer of 1972 was not a good one. I was 17 years old and that summer we would lose a close childhood friend in a motorcycle accident and my cousins, siblings and I would lose our first close relative, my grandfather, to cancer. We lost our innocence in a big way that summer.

Typical of this family, however, there is a funny story that goes along with taking my grandfather to the hospital from the home to which he would never return. We would return there one more time to clean things out when my grandmother moved in with my aunt. It was the house of so many Sunday dinners and Saturday afternoon crab boils and was always filled with Cajun music (unless wrestling was on), laughter and the smells of a roux cooking or chicken frying.

As my mom and her two sisters were leading grandpa down the wooden sidewalk toward the cars where we were waiting, I was watching trying not to think of anything in particular. Suddenly, I noticed a hestitation by my grandfather. "Oh my God," I thought, "Something is happening." I heard my aunt say, "Daddy, keep going, we're almost there." But, grandpa was saying something in French which no one could understand. My mom said, "Daddy?" Then, she started laughing. Then, my aunts started laughing. Grandpa had lost so much weight, his pajama bottoms had fallen down around his ankles and he couldn't move. However, in his weakened state, he was no match for his younger, stronger daughters who were relentlessly trying to drag him down the walk.

I'm glad that's the memory of that day that has stayed with me most vividly all these many years.

8 comments:

Lorna said...

that's such a great story, and so typical of the Laurie we learned to love and laugh with....

Laurie said...

Lorna - Love to you, too, my little Canadian friend.

Comfort Addict said...

Nice one, Laurie. I was 15 in the summer of '72. At 17, in the summer of '74, I had one of the best adventures of my life - a trip to Australia. I'll post about it on my blog sometime soon.

Laurie said...

Comfort Addict - I can't wait to read about a trip to Australia through the eyes of a 17 year old filtered through 30 years of experience.

Marinade Dave said...

Nice story. It's always good to have fond memories of family and friends. Hmmm...1972. It seems I lost my pants a few times that year.

Laurie said...

Dave - Hope you found your pants or at least got away without being shot.

Cousin Kara said...

Laurie I'm so sad I never got to meet grandpa, but I least I can hear stories from you about him. that was a nice one.

Laurie said...

Kara - I'll do some more!