ambiguity

May 25, 2009

Tears of the Geordie Nation.

Filed under: Uncategorized — theinkhorn @ 11:50 am

So the unimaginable but truly inevitable has finally occurred. On the final day of the season, needing just a point to retain their Premier League status, Newcastle fell victim to a deflected Gareth Barry shot to become one of the three teams relegated to the Championship. Tears were shed and hearts were broken. Indeed, this could be a battle Tyneside would never recover from. Alan Shearer had been tipped as the messiah, the man who would rescue them from their fate. While that has not happened, he can at least hold on to the fact that he tried, albeit not hard enough.

Local rivals Middlesborough also find themselves in the Championship, relegated after a truly horrible season in which only 28 goals were scored; the worst club tally for the Premier League season. The Teesiders’ relegation were virtually guaranteed even before their Survival Sunday game against Gianfranco Zola’s West Ham, and a 2 – 1 loss confirmed their status in the second tier next season.

Where do they go from here? Will it be instant promotion next season or will this merely be the start of a freefall the likes of Leeds United? Will Alan Shearer remain in charge or will someone else take the poisoned chalice? Only one thing is for certain; today the tears of the Geordie Nation flow freely.

May 3, 2009

eulogy

Filed under: Uncategorized — theinkhorn @ 3:51 am

Its been a week since my grandmother passed away. To say that it has been one of the toughest seven days of my life is the understatement of the year.

My grandmother… i can’t even find the words. The most amazing woman, apart from my mother, i have ever known. The woman who helped bring up my 6 other cousins and i, and never complained about it one bit. Well, not in front of us, anyway. It was bad enough that she had to deal with her own children; one had a severe gambling problem, one cut herself off from the entire family, one had 3 kids to take up her time, and of course, my mother, with whom she spoke with almost every night.

I remember going to her place every sunday when i was young. She’d cook us dinner, and make us some aloe vera dessert. She grew aloe vera in the backyard, so it was always fresh and sweet. She’d rub it on the bruises i got from falling down the stairs too.

The night she left, i had just arrived home from work, tired, cold, hungry. My mom came into my room and broke the news, and i remember asking her “what?” about four times. I spent the next hour under the covers, eyes wide open. A few hours later, we gathered at her house to start preparing for her funeral. Her coffin laid right in the centre of the hall. I remember walking up to it, peering through the glass at her face, and thinking to myself “what i wouldn’t do to be able to hold her hand again”.

We cremated her last wednesday, after a lengthy sermon from her pastor. I watched my mother cry as the coffin slowly disappeared into the furnace, and it dawned on me that one day, i’m going to lose her, just as she lost her mother. I slipped my hand into hers and gave it a squeeze. When i came home that night, for the first time in years, i bawled my eyes out.

I love my grandmother. And it kills me that i never got to say goodbye. I miss her more than words can describe. I miss her smile, i miss her cheeky wink, and i miss hearing her mistake me for my dad everytime she calls. Even as i’m writing this, it feels like someone’s sticking a fork in my heart and pouring alcohol all over the wound. But if my grandma could see me now, she’d give me that wink again and tell me that if i don’t stop crying, she’d call the police on me.

It used to be called “Grandma’s place”. I don’t know what to call it now.

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