He always sat
in the same chair by the fire
to the left-hand side
but slightly in front of it—
a permanent fixture
in that sturdy wooden chair,
the only chair that
I remember with arm rests.
He was a tall man
who sat upright in his chair.
I don’t remember him
looking old.
I never saw him
get up and walk
while I was there;
preferring his solid seat.
His walking stick
was always by his side
or in his hand yet
I never saw him use it.
Perhaps, just having it
within his reach
gave him the confidence
that comes with independence.
Yet, there is a family photo
of the four generations
in which he stands
tall and erect, without a stick.
He lived with
my granny’s brother;
his wife and their children
just over the road from gran.
I can’t remember now
if he talked much to me
or if he talked to me at all
but I have a warm feeling
towards him so I guess
he must have talked to me
about something.
He probably enjoyed me…
Back then, aged three,
I was his first
great grandchild.
He was ninety-seven.
On reflection,
with a three year old
on the loose
around the kitchen
great granddad Cassidy
was probably wise
not to get out of
that armchair by the fire!