The Leopard at the Gate
I finished ‘The Leopard’ by Guiseppe di Lampedusa.
The book was an interesting parallel for an adventure I had with my grandfather. My grandfather suffered a stroke which has altered his sense of direction and placement. Although he knows who I am, he can’t always connect how I am related to him. This also goes for actual places in the physical world. He believed an old gate existed which lead to the side of his house. In order to satisfy him, to prove it didn't exist, my parents and I drove him round the block. There is (and was) no gate. I was instructed by my father to take some photos. During the ride we drove past a foot path. This footpath bisected the block, but did not run close enough to the house to have the gate in. My mother tried to explain where this cut led, my grandfather was not satisfied.
The next day he wanted to walk down this foot path, to check it. He uses a Zimmer-frame. He has severe arthritis in his ankle. This meant that instead of taking forty seconds to check the foot path, it took us two and a half hours. There was no gate, no sign with a number 2. He was disappointed, but defiantly glad to have adventured out the house. He’d not been out the house (on foot) in a long time. The existence of time seemed to fluctuate. Time became relative, important yet unimportant, stretched and squashed.
The cut led from a small wooded area to the other side of the block. My father got cold, and kept on disappearing up the road ahead. My grandfather has bad vision on one side, and kept on mentioning how my father kept disappearing into the trees. He discussed how this could easily be a series of realities falling together. In each reality there may be one more extra person, or one less. People keep tuning in to others paths, people arrive then disappear.
p.s. At the end of the car ride round the block (the first excursion), we drove to the shore. Coming back I almost got killed by the English footballer STEVEN GERRARD. White shirt, black 4x4. Bastard. He should have given way, cut us up. Mr Gerrard is building a gymnasium in his back garden. I was sitting in my mum’s passenger seat. It was pretty close.
