Gutters and rain.

Odd title. Well to be honest I couldn't think of one and the reason for that one will become evident. I don't find these blogs easy...it's like I clam up inside when I go to write them so we will see if anything remotely useful comes forth. Two subjects I rarely address on here are faith and relationships. Well not head on...I skirt the edges of both now and again...I'm not sure I'd call this head on to be honest but it's not quite skirting either. The last few months have been...well...flat I suppose is as good a word as any. The shop has been a grind ...nothing new there...and my health has been indifferent. Whether it's diet or stress or just ongoing niggling intestinal issues I've been struggling a bit physically ...oddly enough pretty much the same as last year around this time. When people ask me how I am these days I find it hard to come up with an answer...pretty much the usual tends to be the stock one and in truth it's as good as any. The thing about living alone (well pretty much alone) is that after a while you kind of lose track of yourself a little...if that makes sense. Maybe "drift" is a better word. There is drift basically...nothing dramatic or particularly notable but it's there. A certain withdrawal. A feeling of detachment that while not marked is definitely there. I don't go out much...I have no real desire to socialise and have to force myself to do so...even with the small group I would consider close friends. I make excuses for not going places...I put off visits...I am becoming what is known as odd. I had an uncle ...Bob (long dead) ...who we used to call that ...he had never married and lived a solitary but contented existence...people knew he was a bit odd so they didn't bother asking him to things which I used to think was a bit unkind though having entered that territory myself of late I now consider that he was quite fortunate...he did not have to compromise his oddness.  He was a quiet, simple soul who worked hard all his life...physical labour. Bob was small but very fit...or tight as we might say. He lived with my great aunt next door to us most of my life...well until I was a teenager. When she has to go into residential care Bob would come and get his meals with us...not all the time but usually on set days...basically he came and went as he pleased. I had always had an affinity with him...from my earliest memories of him as a child there was something that pulled me to him...that fascinated me about him. He was not a talker...nor was he well educated...I expect these days he might even be considered to have learning difficulties...then he was just a bit odd. He could be awkward and stubborn at times and did not take advice well...but he was...well...totally without guile...what you saw was what you got ...it wasn't filtered through anything first. I suppose you could say I was close to him...I spent a lot of time in his company as a kid...Newry was not that welcoming a place and I rarely had friends to the house...I was a bit of a loner...not unlike Bob. I don't ever remember having an in depth conversation with him about anything. But I do remember that I felt at ease  in his company...he was always working outdoors, from gardening to cutting hedges (a particular obsession with him though we did have a lot of hedges) and I was often to be found "helping" him in the school holidays ..especially the long summer months. He  was a rough man..always wearing those thick cotton brushed work shirts (the ones that had the spare collars) and often dungarees or boiler suit. He had sideburns...and a thick head of hair...picture if you will Logan/Wolverine from the Xmen but a shorter less photogenic version. He was tough...and a hard worker...even when approaching 70 he was doing the work of two men about the place. I don't ever remember us really falling out...though I'm pretty sure I must have been a pollution to him as he tried to work with me in tow. I remember his watches...big round faces with leather straps...I always wanted a watch like Bob's. I remember those  summer days now with a certain amount of nostalgia...but they were good days. It's the only time in my life that I remember being completely happy...I'm sure there were darker moments but I don't recall them. Perhaps it is just that nostalgia we associate with certain parts of our youth. Of course nothing is permanent. Around 78/79 my parents decided we would move to Banbridge

..it made practical sense as I was at school there amongst other things but it meant that Bob would be left alone. He could of course have moved with us but there was no way that was going to happen. I recall the sense of unease I had when it sank in that things were going to change...I'm pretty certain he felt it more though we never broached the subject between us. I still remember the December night we drive away from the house for the last time with him watching...he wasn't generally expressive of his emotions but I'm fairly sure he was crying. Of course despite initial difficulties he adjusted to the situation and was a frequent visitor to our new location....it wasn't the same of course but I was well into my teens now and had other fish to fry....I guess I was too preoccupied to think too much about Bob or how he was feeling. Fast forward nearly 15 years and I was engaged to be married...I still saw Bob on a regular enough basis but he was getting on and had not been very well...he was as tough as old boots but this time he was very sick and unable to keep food down for more than a few hours...he was also heavily jaundiced. The inevitable diagnosis of pancreatic cancer came and went and almost six months to the day of it Bob was laid to rest. His last few weeks had been a struggle...to put it mildly. The last time I ever saw him alive I went out of the hospital room and prayed to God that he would take him that night ...he'd suffered enough. Now I would say that it was coincidence but when the phone went later that night I knew that the prayer had been answered...Bob was gone.

And the point to all this? Well none really. It's been a long time since I thought about my "wee" uncle ....since I've thought much about my childhood to be honest. The emotional dislocation of the last few years has pushed many things just out of reach...or it feels like that. Hard to explain. More than anything it's maybe that my description of myself as becoming a bit odd sparked off these recollections. Perhaps I am becoming like Bob ...in my own way of course. That would be ironic of course...given our closeness all those many summers ago...but maybe it would also be fitting in its way. Maybe. 

And the title...you'll have to wait... I'll get back to that.